Secrets of Harmony Grove (58 page)

“Si-nen-na,” she echoed, and we all shared a chuckle.

After visiting with everyone for a while, sampling the delicious food, and reveling in the compliments about my beautiful inn, I was glad when my father announced to the small crowd that he and Emory were going next door to retrieve the other ashes and would then head to the Daphne tree so we could honor Abe’s request. Anyone who would like to join the family was welcome to meet there in about twenty minutes.

When it was time to go, Liesl and I were deep in conversation, so we walked together, talking as we went. There was plenty to discuss now that I was seriously considering moving out here to Lancaster County and taking over the running of the inn myself. That couldn’t happen until I sold the condo, which could take a few months, but at least I knew now what I wanted and where I belonged. My experiences here just three short weeks ago had taught me that.

In the meantime, the B and B was sitting vacant, though Jonah and Liesl were keeping an eye on it for me until I got all of my ducks in a row. They were also making some changes to it, removing the wine racks and rebuilding the stairs. Though the hidden room was no longer a secret, I thought someday I might turn it into a memorial of sorts, perhaps using the unique space to educate people about the Holocaust and as a display area for some of Daphne’s poetry.

“You know,” Liesl said now, tucking a hand in my arm as we walked, “I have to tell you something I have been thinking about for a long time, ever since Uncle Abe died.”

“Yes?”

“I notice that the English are always saying ‘I’m sorry for your loss, so sorry for your loss.’ It is an appropriate expression, I suppose.”

I nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

“But for me,” she continued, “what I realized is that at other times when things are going well and a person is finding herself to be quite successful and affluent, earning and achieving and expanding, what I would like to say is ‘I am sorry for your gain.’”

I couldn’t help but laugh, asking what on earth she meant.

“Just that the ways of God’s people are not the ways of this world. Success and money and achievement can be a terrible hindrance to one’s spiritual life. At least at times of loss, we are reminded of our priorities, of our many blessings. In times of gain, we can so often lose our way. This is why the Amish stress simplicity in all things at all times, because nothing should ever be allowed to turn our eyes away from what is truly important, from the cross.”

I nodded, surprised as tears suddenly filled my eyes.

“You’re right, Liesl. That’s exactly what happened to me. In the midst of my biggest successes, I lost my way for a while.”

She simply nodded, putting an arm around my shoulders and walking alongside me the rest of the way through the grove. In our comfortable silence, I found myself turning to prayer, as I had done often these past few weeks. I didn’t know what the future held in store, but I did know one thing, that being fully committed to God was a far, far better place to be than sitting on a fence, imagining the view on both sides.

“And what of your young man?” Liesl teased as we neared the bridge. “Any decisions in that area?”

Reaching the bridge and waiting our turn to file across, I smiled, telling her that I had come a long way in that regard as well. Now that I was fully committed, and Heath was looking for a new position with one of the hospitals out here in Lancaster County, I couldn’t imagine why I had ever hesitated with regard to this man at all. He was everything I had ever dreamed of in a future husband and more. Glancing at my watch, I wondered how much longer it would be before he arrived. As we assembled around the tree at the center of the grove, I glanced back toward the path at the final stragglers, pleased to see that the crowd now included Mike, who was talking animatedly to Nina, and the cops Rip and Charlie, who had taken a sort of
fatherly interest in things around here and had begun advising me on the care and tending of the many trees in the grove.

At last, Heath finally arrived as well. As he stood at the end of the line, waiting for his turn to cross the narrow bridge, our eyes met. In the smile we shared, I saw everything: my past, this present, our future. We hoped to marry in the spring and make Harmony Grove Bed & Breakfast our permanent home.

I couldn’t imagine a better way to live happily ever after.

“Welcome, everyone,” my father said, standing with Emory at the base of the Daphne tree. “Thanks for coming out here and sharing this special moment with us.”

He went on to explain about my grandfather’s directive and what we were doing, whose ashes these were, and why this moment was important. As he spoke, he held in his hands the decorative box that had long sat on the mantel at Emory’s house. I had always known it once contained Daphne’s ashes, but I had assumed that they had been sprinkled out here long before now.

“As you know,” my father continued, “thanks to the generous donation of my mother, Maureen, this afternoon at three the grove will officially open to the public as the newest addition to the Lancaster County parks system. But for the next few hours, it still belongs only to us, and in the intimacy of this moment we are pleased to put to rest, finally, these ashes that have come here from halfway around the world.”

With that, Emory held out the box as my father opened the lid and removed two small containers, tiny metal jars that had been labeled with the names of Daphne’s mother and sister. As he opened each jar and sprinkled its meager contents at the base of a fig tree, we all looked on in respectful silence.

Next, he removed from the decorative box the larger container that held Daphne’s cremated remains. Opening the bag, he held it out toward Emory, who set the box down on the ground, took the ashes from my dad, and walked in a circle around the tree, carefully pouring out his mother’s ashes onto the ground. When he was finished, I doubted there was a dry eye in the whole group.

My father picked up the box and was closing the lid when he spied something in the bottom: a bulky manila envelope, on the outside of which Abe had written
“Open after sprinkling ashes.”

I looked at Heath, who slipped a warm hand in mine and gave it a tight squeeze. Before my father even looked inside the envelope, we both knew what he would find there: the diamonds, the sum total of Daphne’s family fortune, and the final assurance that Emory’s needs would be covered for the rest of his life.

Sure enough, we were correct. As my father offered a glimpse of the sparkling stones to the crowd, and everyone looked on in awe, I watched Emory, who was excited as well but quickly lost interest in the stones, his attention caught by the sight of a beautiful red bird who had landed on a branch nearby, its song suddenly filling the trees of the grove with music. At least Emory knew how to focus on what was really important. And that was a lesson I had recently learned myself.

With the help of my loved ones, it was one I hoped to remember for the rest of my life.

WHISPERS OF THE BAYOU

What Mysteries Lie Hidden

Beside the Dark Water of the Bayou?

Swept away from Louisiana bayou country as a child, Miranda Miller is a woman without a past. She has a husband and child of her own and a fulfilling job in a Manhattan museum, but she also has questions—about the tragedy that cut her off from family and caused her to be sent away, and about those first five years that were erased from her memory entirely.

Summoned to the bedside of Willy Pedreaux, the old caretaker of her grandparents’ antebellum estate, Miranda goes back for the first time, hoping to learn the truths of her past and receive her rightful inheritance. But Willy’s premature death plunges Miranda into a nightmare of buried secrets, priceless treasure, and unknown enemies.

Follow one woman’s search through the hidden rooms of a bayou mansion, the enigmatic snares of an ancient myth, and the all-consuming quest for a heart open enough for love—and for God.

SHADOWS OF LANCASTER COUNTY

What Shadows Darken the

Quiet Valleys of Amish Country?

Anna Bailey thought she left the tragedies of the past behind when she took on a new identity and moved from Pennsylvania to California. But now that her brother has vanished and his wife is crying out for help, Anna knows she has no choice but to come out of hiding, go home, and find him. Back in Lancaster County, Anna follows the high-tech trail her brother left behind, a trail that leads from the simple world of Amish farming to the cutting edge of DNA research and gene therapy.

During the course of her pursuit, Anna soon realizes that she has something others want, something worth killing for. In a world where nothing is as it seems, Anna
seeks to protect herself, find her brother, and keep a rein on her heart despite the sudden reappearance of Reed Thornton, the only man she has ever loved.

Following up on her extremely popular gothic thriller,
Whispers of the Bayou
, Mindy Starns Clark offers another suspenseful standalone mystery, one full of Amish simplicity, dark shadows, and the light of God’s amazing grace.

UNDER THE CAJUN MOON

What Secrets Can Be Found
by the Light of the Cajun Moon?

New Orleans may be the “Big Easy,” but nothing about it was ever easy for international business etiquette expert Chloe Ledet. She moved away years ago, leaving her parents and their famous French Quarter restaurant behind. But when she hears that her father has been shot, she races home to be by his side and to handle his affairs—only to learn a long-hidden secret that changes everything she knew to be true about herself and her family.

Framed for murder, Chloe and a handsome Cajun stranger must search for a priceless treasure, one whose roots weave through the very history of Louisiana itself. But can Chloe depend on the mysterious man leading her on this cat-and-mouse chase into the heart of Cajun country? Or by trusting him, has she gone from the frying pan into the fire?

Following up on her bestselling Gothic thriller,
Whispers of the Bayou
, and Amish romantic suspense,
Shadows of Lancaster County
, Mindy Starns Clark offers another exciting standalone novel, one full of Cajun mystery, hidden dangers, and the glow of God’s unending grace.