Secret, The (34 page)

Grace rose and walked the length of the kitchen with a determined look and glanced toward the sitting room.

Adah assumed she was looking to see if Jakob had nodded off to sleep in his chair. “Ach, Gracie, you mustn’t let this trouble you so.”

“I must confess somethin’,” Grace said suddenly.

Adah jerked her head fully upright. “Oh?”

“I saw an envelope sticking out of Dawdi’s Bible the night I came in to see you, all discouraged after a date. Remember?”

“Jah.” Adah’s heart was pounding faster now.

“I don’t want to snoop, Mammi, so I’m askin’ for permission to read the letter Dawdi Jakob sent to you and my mother in Kidron.” Grace blinked her eyes too quickly. “All right?”

“Why, dear?”

Grace shrugged. “There must be a reason you or Dawdi saved it, jah?”

Adah sighed. “Best not, Gracie.” She tried to keep her emotions steady, but Grace was pushing much too hard for her own good.

chapter
thirty

J
udah awakened from a fitful sleep, glad his inner clock hadn’t failed him. His turn to check on the lambs.
Can’t afford
to lose another one
, he thought, fumbling for his robe in the darkness.

He staggered down the stairs to the hallway and sat on the deacon’s bench to pull on his work boots over bare feet. Although still in something of a stupor, he managed to get to the barn, where he made his way to the lambing pen. There he monitored the two-day-old twins, born Wednesday afternoon while he and Andy Riehl sheared the rest of the sheep. Thankfully, Adam and Joe had kept watch over the laboring ewe, and there had been no complications.

Unable now to repress his feelings of anxiety, Judah knelt in the hay. The pain in his neck had developed into a constant torment, a continual reminder of his loss. Blame saddled him down with a weight he felt powerless to escape.

What Judah wouldn’t do for some rest . . . deep, restorative sleep to submerge the memories and ease the enduring pain.

Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily
beset us . . .

He mustered up the energy to inspect the two remaining triplet lambs, as well—one of which needed frequent bottle-feeding. That done, he slid open the barn door, closed it again, and slogged back to the house. He kicked off his dirty boots, then gripping the banister, he pulled himself back up the stairs to his room.

Almost too tired to move, Judah fell into bed with his robe still tied at the waist. His feet hung off Lettie’s side of the bed.

Dear wife of mine . . .

The sun peeked over the distant green hills, and Heather was awake enough to turn on her phone to check her email. Several college acquaintances had sent updates in an attempt to get her to return for some summer fun.

Fleetingly, she wished she had a sister. It would be a relief to have someone to confide in, whether about Devon or about her diagnosis and the upcoming appointment with the naturopath. It wasn’t that she questioned her decisions; she just felt so alone in the world.

When she heard a knock on her door, she set aside her phone. She really needed to work on her thesis today, once she got her inbox down to zero.

She opened the door and there stood Becky, dressed for the day in a dark green dress with an apron to match. “Would ya want to come help make chocolate waffles, Heather?” she asked, eyes shining.

Heather had indicated an interest yesterday, but this minute? She craved some time alone. She had enjoyed Becky’s company, but as was her usual way with potential friendships, she felt herself backing away, even though her initial connection with Becky Riehl had been so strong.

“Heather?” Becky repeated.

“Maybe another time?”

Becky’s smile faded.

Heather felt bad—she hadn’t wanted to hurt the younger girl’s feelings. “I just need to keep working, that’s all.” The explanation sounded lame even to her ears.

“I’ll call ya when breakfast is ready, then.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Heather closed the door.

She shook her head.
Why do I always do that?

Heather crawled back onto the bed with what looked to be her best friend in the world right now—her phone.

Surprised to see Dat’s door wide open, Grace looked in on her father, who was still sleeping. She’d come up to check on him after Adam and Joe asked why he hadn’t gone directly to the barn after dawn, their usual habit.

She didn’t have the heart to waken him as he slept crisscross on the bed.
Must have checked on the lambs earlier
. Thinking it best to leave him be, as weary as he’d been for the past week, she softly closed the door and tiptoed downstairs to put breakfast on the table.

Dawdi and Mammi came over without being asked today . . . quite cheerfully, too. Evidently they were all for Mandy’s suggestion they take meals together as one big family.

“Dat’s under the weather,” Grace said as they sat. Then they bowed their heads, ready for Dawdi Jakob’s blessing.

Grace placed her left hand on Mamma’s vacant chair and asked the Lord to look after her while offering her own silent thanks
.
Dat had instructed them to remember Mamma and her safety in their prayers. She was tempted to pray for a safe and quick return, too.

After the blessing, Mammi Adah looked at Dat’s empty chair before mentioning the coming no-Preaching Sunday. Dawdi Jakob also entered into the discussion. “Any suggestions who we should go visit?” he asked. “Has your Dat talked of anyone?”

Both Adam and Joe shook their heads.

“Well, we can’t all fit in one carriage,” Mammi said, “but Adam could take his courtin’ buggy and put the girls in it.”

“That’d be fun,” Mandy piped up, her fork resting between her fingers.

“It’s been the longest time since we’ve seen Dat’s cousins in Bart,” suggested Joe.

Grace sucked in a breath. “But . . . without Mamma?”

Adam locked his gaze on Grace’s. “Jah . . . those cousins probably aren’t the best choice this time.”

“Might just get things stirred up worse than they are,” Dawdi agreed, wiping crumbs from his gray beard.

“What about Dat’s parents, then?” Joe asked. “We could go down near Ronks to see them . . . then come back and visit the Bontragers, maybe.”

“Two families in one afternoon.” Mandy smiled and looked back and forth between Grace and Joe.

Grace studied her younger brother. What was he up to? Was he sweet on Yonnie’s younger sister Mary Liz, just maybe?

Adam suggested they wait to see what Dat wanted to do. “He’s not sick, is he, Grace?” he asked, frowning.

“Considering everything, I’d say he’s all tuckered out,” she replied.

At that, everyone nodded, seemingly in unison. Truth was, and she could see it in their eyes, they were all worried Dat was pining hard for Mamma.

Jessica and Brittany Spangler stopped by with three loaves of banana nut bread midmorning. Such kind and caring neighbors, as always. “Thought you maybe could use an extra bit of baking,” Brittany said, looking much too serious.

Grace assumed they’d heard by now of Mamma’s leaving. How could they not? Even though nothing was said about it, she’d have to be blind not to see the knowing glint in their made-up eyes. “Come see us, Grace!” they urged before saying good-bye.

So the news had traveled even farther than the People. Surely the most remarkable tittle-tattle to hit the area in recent years.

Grace ambled through the kitchen and across the hall, heading upstairs to Mammi Adah’s sewing room. Earlier, Mammi had asked Grace to help cut yard lengths of thread for quilting, and Grace had agreed. She greeted her grandmother and settled in across the worktable from her, all the while knowing it was time to come clean. “I hope you know I didn’t just let Mamma go that night,” she finally said. “Not without calling to her. Well, pleading . . . truly.”

“Of course you tried to stop her.” Mammi sighed, her bosom rising slowly. “I’m sure you did, dear, just as I would’ve.”

“There’s something else,” Grace said, nearly in a whisper.

Mammi looked up, scissors and thread in hand.

“I went looking for your letter in the night,” Grace said, swallowing hard. “It was wrong of me. . . . I’m sorry.”

Mammi’s eyes grew wide.

“I can’t stop thinking ’bout Mamma. If the letter Dawdi wrote to you and Mamma might help . . . well, why not let me read it?” Grace began to cry. “Oh, Mammi . . . I just thought, maybe . . . Ach, I’m ever so sorry.”

“There, there, honey-girl.” Mammi Adah reached across the table and touched her hand.

She wept softly, wishing she could get ahold of herself. After a time, when she’d wiped her eyes and blown her nose, Grace caught her breath. “Could the address on the envelope be the same as Mamma’s present location?”

Mammi Adah nodded slowly. “I can’t tell ya how many times I’ve wondered that myself since she left.” She fidgeted.

“If so, Dat could just go and bring Mamma home.”

“Well, if your mother’s gone there, I can tell you she would not want any of us followin’ her.” Mammi’s breathing was audible as she resumed her measuring and cutting. “It’s best we leave things with the Lord.”

Grace pondered this and stretched the measuring tape along the thread. She wasn’t content to do as Mammi suggested. What if Dat did travel out to Ohio, only to be rebuffed as Grace had been the day Mamma left?

Suddenly, Dawdi Jakob called up the stairs, “Ach, the brethren have come to see Judah!” and Mammi excused herself right quick, looking quite distressed.

Grace’s heart beat hard, yet she made herself stay sitting quietly in the tranquil room where her mother had sometimes come to work. Mammi’s old treadle sewing machine stood silently in the corner like an old friend.

The psalm she’d read early this morning came to mind:
Trust
in him at all times . . . pour out your heart before him.

She bowed her head to pray.

Judah had awakened with a jolt, flabbergasted to find himself still in bed at this late hour. He’d quickly gone downstairs to shower and dress and was just coming out of the washroom when Adah motioned him to the back door. “The ministers are here to see you, Judah.” She stepped aside and swiftly left the kitchen.

If it’s not one thing . . .

He inhaled deeply, uncertain what was ahead. He went to the door and took the steps slowly, not trusting his legs. In spite of his unintentional long rest, they were as unreliable as rubber.

“Mornin’, Judah,” Preacher Smucker said, the first to greet him.

Judah gave a nod but made no effort to speak, preserving his energy for whatever was to be addressed. And surely there was trouble ahead, with all four ministers in his yard—the bishop, two preachers, and Deacon Amos.

The bishop took the lead. “We’ve come to offer our help,” he said, glancing toward the barn. “If you want to try to locate your wife.”

She doesn’t want to be found,
he thought bitterly.

Judah spied part of Joe’s face peeking out from behind the barn door. He frowned at his son, who immediately disappeared inside.

“I have many new lambs. . . .” Surely the brethren realized that to go now would put his very livelihood at stake.