Heritage of Lancaster County 02 The Confession (8 page)

BOOK: Heritage of Lancaster County 02 The Confession
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75 Laura's private sitting room. He carried with him a large bouquet of red roses.

Nothing new, she thought. Mr. Bennett often gave his wife flowers for known and unknown reasons. Today, however, it seemed indicative of something--perhaps only a prelude--of what was to come.

"My darling." He spoke in tender tones, coming to kneel before his wife and take her delicate white hands in his. "I don't want to startle you..." His voice trailed off, but his gaze was unwavering. "Someone is here to meet you," he continued, "someone you've been longing to see."

Rosie stiffened, glancing across the room at Nurse Natalie., who was staring in shocked expectation. What was the man up to?

"Laura, my dear, I believe I may have found your daughter--your Katherine." Mr. Bennett turned and glanced toward the doorway. "She's waiting just outside the door."

A little gasp escaped Mrs. Bennett's lips, and Rosie struggled to subdue her own concern. She sincerely hoped this revelation would not set her mistress back in any way--but then, it wasn't her place to speak up.

Master Dylan paused, perhaps allowing his wife a moment to weigh his words. "Are you ready to meet your only offspring?" he asked. "She goes by the name of Katie Lapp

now."

"Katie?" came Laura's faltering voice.

Rosie shot a desperate glance at Nurse Judah, who stood quickly and came to her patient's side, leaning gently on the right arm of the wheelchair. "This is quite unexpected, sir," she remarked, slanting her patient's husband a sideways glance. Then, to Laura--"How do you feel about this, Mrs. Bennett?"

Without warning, the chair began to shake. But it was

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not from a tremor brought on by the disease. Laura Bennett was crying, soundless sobs.

Rosie felt a peculiar urge to shield the woman but restrained herself, allowing the moment to unfold. After all, who was she to step in and keep the mistress from laying eyes on her daughter, at long last?

It was nearly Christmas, for goodness' sake. Miracles were supposed to happen at Christmastime.

Laura dabbed a tissue at her eyes repeatedly. Then after a time, she nodded--said almost pitifully, "Bring my dear one to me."

Rosie braced herself, planting her eyes on the wide doorway, and gazed at the empty spot. She felt as if she were waiting for the heroine of a play to make a grand entrance ....

She was pleasantly surprised when a young Amish- woman, dressed in Old Order garb and head covering tiptoed into the room, accompanied by Master Dylan himself. The slender girl, who couldn't have been a day over twenty, had eyes for Mrs. Bennett entirely. Her oval face burst into a spontaneous yet coy smile. "Hello, Mother," she said.

The master was quick to speak, even before Laura could respond to her daughter's first words of greeting. "Darling, I'd like you to meet Katie."

In spite of her husband's attempt to offer a formal introduction, Laura's gaze never once veered from the Amish girl. "Oh, Katherine, is it you? Is it really you?"

Rosie surrendered her hold on the wheelchair and stepped aside, surveying closely the glint of--what was that strange look in Dylan Bennett's eyes? Certainly not glee... or was it?

"Oh, do come closer, my dear," Laura said, fighting back tears that only served to cloud her vision further. "I want to

77 have a good look at you. You won't mind, will you?"

The Amish girl came near, and Nurse Judah promptly

pulled up a chair for her to sit, facing Laura.

"Denki," came the reticent reply.

Laura noticed Katie's polite nod toward the nurse. Her heart fairly skipped a beat as she gazed happily at the young woman before her.

Katherine, her beautiful daughter, was here at last! Here .. in this very house!

The young woman spoke again. "Ach, but I want to look at you, Mam."

The Plain, simple words seemed to hang in the air. Yet Laura fell silent as fluctuating emotions overwhelmed her. Elation, bittersweet joy ....

The two of them--surrounded by Dylan, Rosie, and the nurse--observed each other curiously.

Laura soon found her voice. "Katherine, my precious

girl. Oh, I've waited so long, so very long for this day." Her daughter nodded, smiling sweetly.

Laura's eyes filled with tears, and she brushed them away quickly, fearing she might look up and find that her dear one had vanished. "The Lord has surely answered my prayers," she whispered, reaching for the dainty hand. "How happy I am you've come, Katherine."

"Please, you must call me Katie. It suits me just fine." So, thought Laura, her birth daughter's Amish par- ents--the Lapps--had modified the name she'd chosen. Renamed her Katie. Indeed, there was something simple yet charming about it. The short, fanciful name did suit

her.

"Then, Katie you are," she answered, surprised how the charming nickname rolled off her tongue. It was perfectly right--an acceptable substitute, being a derivative of Katherine, after all.

The notion that she had provided this name warmed her

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heart, made her feel more closely connected to this stranger somehow. Gave her a link to the past. A past the two had never shared. Lost... lost days. Gone forever.

Still, they had this moment. She must cling to that. They--she and this adorable girl named Katie--had now. And with all the love she'd carried in vain for her daughter these many years, she decided they would indeed enjoy this time that was every bit as much a divine gift as it was Dylan's.

Scarcely able to keep from staring at her child, Laura was struck by Katie's lovely face--the creamy white complexion, picture perfect. And the quiet smile. Everything about her charmed Laura. Yet if there was any disappointment at all, it might've been in the color of Katie's hair.

Laura had always fantasized that her flesh and blood would surely share her own fiery red locks. Still, strawberry blond was most becoming and enhanced the girl's light brown brows and lashes beautifully.

If only she could really see this vision of love before her, marred only by the inability to focus her eyes and truly savor her daughter's appearance. "Oh my, there are so many, many things I want to tell you," Laura heard herself saying. "Things that a mother and her long-absent daughter might share."

Behind her, she was aware of Rosie's sniffling, and Laura was quite sure there were tears in her husband's eyes as well. A swell of gratitude to him took her breath for the moment. She must ask him how he'd managed to locate Katherine-- and so close to Christmas. But that could wait. "We must take our afternoon tea together," she told the girl. "Just the two of us."

At that, Dylan spoke up, emerging from the corner of the room. "Tea is on the way."

"Wonderful." Laura kept her chin up, looking directly at him, though he appeared as a blur to her fuzzy vision.

79 Nurse Judah checked Laura's pulse before excusing her- self. Rosie seemed more reluctant to leave and leaned over to whisper, "Are you certain I won't be needed?"

"Thank you, but no," Laura said, though a hammer in her heart tripped at an unceasing pace. The pain of the years, the excruciating loss.., all of it came sweeping through the room, overpowering her. The weight of worry, the haunting memories nearly engulfed her as she sat helplessly in her wheelchair, and for one dreamlike instant, she had to glance around to secure the moment--to reorient herself as to what had just taken place.

It was then she noticed that Dylan had moved to a chair only a few feet from Katie. Why had he remained in spite of her request for seclusion?

She avoided his gaze and turned her attention to the primly dressed Katie, wearing the same shade of blue and the black apron she'd observed on several Amishwomen while in Lancaster County last month. In fact, if memory served her correctly, the color was the same hue that Rebecca, her baby's adopted mother, had worn the day they met in the corridor of Lancaster General Hospital nearly twenty-three years ago.

"Katie, will you consider staying over for the holidays?" she asked, smiling at the prospect.

Before her daughter could respond, Dylan cut in, addressing Katie. "Mrs. Bennett, er, your mother and I would love to have you celebrate Christmas with us." He turned, delivering an adoring gesture toward Laura as if the two of them were, in all reality, the happiest couple in the world.

"More than anything, I want you to stay," Laura said, her throat growing increasingly dry as she sat motionless, for all practical purposes, paralyzed. The disturbing, yet not unwelcome tension of the situation--the powerful sense of

80

seeing yet not truly seeing her daughter--left her reeling, breathless.

Dylan seemed eager to dissipate the heaviness in the room. "If you wish, I can have the butler show you to one of our upstairs guest rooms."

"By all means," Laura added. "We'll make you quite comfortable here, Katie."

At that, the Amish girl lit up. "We'll get better acquainted, maybe? Jah?"

"Oh, I do hope so." Deep within her, Laura offered a silent thanksgiving to the Lord for bringing her precious Ka-

tie to her.., right on time.

On time.

So was afternoon tea. Rosie served it, along with pastry delicacies fit for a newly reunited royal family.

Although a thousand questions flooded Laura's mind as they sipped tea and buttered their tarts, she refrained from voicing a single one, uncomfortable with the idea of quizzing her travel-weary daughter so soon upon her arrival. Along with that, despite her appreciation forNis gift to her, she was feeling somewhat put out with Dylan, who was clearly becoming an intrusion.

If he were genuinely interested in learning of Katie's prior whereabouts and her past, why was it he continued to veer the conversation away from the very things Laura longed to discover about Katie Lapp? All of it puzzled her, and she felt a panicky sensation come over her, triggering a violent attack of leg tremors.

She cried out, grimacing in pain.

Immediately, Dylan stood to his feet, staring sharply. She was certain he was repulsed, could read it in his eyes in spite of her blurred vision.

When she heard Katie gasp, Laura tried desperately to speak, to smooth over what must be a horrifying moment for the others. But her voice was also shaky.

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Nurse Judah took charge. "I'll see to Mrs. Bennett," she said, steering the wheelchair out of the room.

Not now, Laura fretted as she was sped away to her bedroom. When they were out of sight, she clutched at her left leg. Please, Lord Jesus, not now.

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The housemaids and servants seemed to know without being told. An undercurrent of conversation could be heard throughout the Bennett mansion as hired staff flew about making additional last-minute plans.

"It seems Master Bennett has located his wife's daughter. They're getting acquainted in Mrs. Bennett's suite at this moment," Selig was overheard telling the head steward.

"By all means, create an additional pJ.ace setting," Garrett replied, directing traffic by the mere lift of his brow.

"Anyone laid eyes on the mistress's daughter?" the butler asked.

One of the cooks admonished him with a wave of a spatula. "Talk to your wife. Rosie can tell you what the girl looks like, I'll bet."

"The girl?" Garrett said, holding a round tray in midair. A curious smile played across his lips. "How old is she?"

"No one seems to know her exact age," Selig offered from his post beside the cutting board. "But my bet is she strongly resembles Mrs. Bennett."

"One would certainly hope so," said Theodore, who had stepped into the kitchen from the utility room, where he had been observing the banter, rather amused at the playful

83 speculation going on about him. At his appearance, the palaver did not cease; rather, it continued, and little by little, small groups of workers could be heard whispering as they rolled out pies, gathered necessary condiments for the after- dinner coffee, or dispersed clean linens and accessories to the guest room.

Searching out his nephew in particular, he spoke up. "May I have a word with you?" He bobbed his head toward the hallway.

Garrett, preoccupied with the precise arrangement of hors d'oeuvres on a brass tray, continued working. "Can it wait a moment?"

"I'd rather it not."

His nephew peered up at him, looking rather startled. "Why... Uncle, what is it?"

"Drop everything and come ... now," Theodore commanded, and although he hadn't recalled speaking so sternly to his only living relative, the truth was, he had need of Garrett.

If only for the sake of extreme curiosity.

Fortunately, Garrett did not take his uncle literally about dropping everything, for the enormous platter was splendidly arrayed with before-dinner delicacies--tantalizing in appearance, and at this point in the planning, quite nearly finished.

Summoning Selig to take over, Garrett hurriedly wiped his hands on a towel and followed his uncle into the hallway. "What could be more important than the hors d'oeuvres?" he asked when they were alone in a corner of the south corridor, far enough removed from the kitchen for privacy and close enough to the butler's pantry door in case an escape was necessary.

"The hors d'oeuvres can wait." Theodore leaned forward, glancing about to check for eavesdroppers. "Now, what's all this fuss about a reunion with Mrs. Bennett and

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her daughter? I've caught nothing but snippets all morning."

A wrinkled frown hovered on the steward's brow. "It seems the mistress's daughter has turned up out of nowhere. Straightaway... out of the blue."

"Hmm, quite intriguing, I must say."

"Supposedly, Mrs. Bennett is meeting with the young Amishwoman in her private quarters as we speak." Garrett glanced at his watch. "I mustn't delay now, Uncle," he said, "if tea is to be served on time."

"Very well." Theodore scanned the maze of banisters and landings overhead. Wouldn't do to get caught dawdling in the hallway. Then resting his gaze on his nephew, he dismissed the handsome chap with a wave. "We'll discuss it later.., after tea."

Which was to say that Garrett would surely pay strict attention while attending to tea in Mrs. Bennett's suite, after which he would doubtless report to his uncle.

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