Is anybody home?” Dad called.
Grace’s heart took a nosedive. She couldn’t let him see Anna without explaining things first. Guilt clung to her like a spider’s web to a fly. If only she could undo the past. Oh, how she wished she hadn’t kept this secret from her family.
“Grace, are you here?”
She jumped up and rushed out of the room, meeting him in the hallway outside the kitchen door.
“I figured you were here, but I wasn’t sure about your mamm and sisters. Are they home yet?” Dad asked.
“No, and I—I don’t expect them until closer to suppertime.” Grace took hold of his arm. “Uh, Dad, we need to talk.”
“Sure, I’ve got time for a little break. Just came in to refill my thermos with something to drink.” He nodded toward the living room. “Should we go in there?”
She shook her head. Panic threatened to overtake her. “Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll pour you a glass of goat’s milk, and we can sit at the table.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Grace followed her father down the hall. When they entered the kitchen, he pulled out his chair at the head of the table and took a seat, stretching his arms over his head. “Didn’t realize how tired I was until I sat down. I’ve been working too many long hours lately.”
Grace took down two glasses from the cupboard and poured some milk.
As she handed a glass to her father, his forehead wrinkled. “Your hands are shaking. Is there something wrong? There hasn’t been another break-in, I hope.”
She shook her head and sank into the chair across from him. “We had a visitor awhile ago—an English man with a little girl.”
He took a drink from his glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Oh? Did they come in a car?”
“Jah.”
“I’m surprised I didn’t hear it pull into the yard. Of course, I’ve been hammering and sawing much of the day, so most outside sounds would probably have been drowned out.” He took another drink. “Who were the English visitors?”
Grace’s throat felt so dry and swollen she could barely swallow. She took a sip of milk and nearly choked as the cool liquid trickled down the wrong pipe.
“Are you okay?” Dad jumped up and thumped her on the back. “Take a couple of deep breaths.”
She coughed and sputtered, finally gaining enough control so she could speak. “There’s … uh … something I must tell you.”
“What is it, daughter? Your face is as pale as this milk we’re drinking.”
“I think you’d better sit down again. What I have to say is going to be quite a shock.”
“You’re scaring me, Grace.” He lowered himself into the chair with a groan. “Has something happened to your mamm or one of your sisters?”
She shook her head. Tears clouded her vision. “The man who was here is Carl Davis. When I was living among the English, I—I married his son, Wade.”
Dad sat, staring at Grace in a strange way. “Is this some kind of a joke? You’re married to Cleon, remember?”
“It’s not a joke. Wade was killed in a car accident, and I returned to Holmes County soon after his funeral.”
His eyebrows furrowed, nearly disappearing into the wrinkles of his forehead. “Does … does Cleon know of this?”
She shook her head.
“How come you never mentioned it before now?”
Grace gulped in some air. “I was afraid you wouldn’t understand.”
He opened his mouth as if to respond, but she held up her hand to stop him. “There’s more. I’ve been keeping another secret these past four and a half years, as well.”
“What other secret?”
She glanced toward the door leading to the hallway. “There’s a little girl asleep on the sofa in our living room. Her name is Anna, and she … she’s my daughter.”
Dad’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “Your what?”
“Anna’s my little girl. She was only six months old when her daed was killed. Then Wade’s parents took her from me and moved away.” She gulped on the sob rising in her throat and steadied herself by grabbing the edge of the table. “I was unable to contact them by phone or mail, so I finally realized I needed to be here with my family and not living in the English world on my own.”
The color drained from Dad’s face, and he slowly shook his head.
“I know it was wrong to keep this from you and Mom.” Grace reached out to touch his arm. “I was so ashamed that I’d given up my baby, and I didn’t think I would ever see Anna again, so I—”
“You’re just like your aunt Rosemary, you know that?” Dad’s fist came down hard, scattering the napkins that had been nestled in a basket in the center of the table. “How could you have done such a thing, Grace? Ach, it’s bad enough that you ran off and married an Englisher, but how could you have given up your own flesh and blood?”
“I—I didn’t want to, but Wade’s mother was so mean and pushy. She insisted that Anna would be better off with them, and she threatened to hire a lawyer and prove I was unfit to raise Anna on my own.”
“Were you unfit, Grace?”
Their gazes connected, and Dad’s pointed question was almost Grace’s undoing. “I was so young, and the only job I’d ever had was working at a restaurant as a waitress. I knew I couldn’t make enough money to support myself and Anna, and I thought—”
“You could have come home and asked for help. Surely you knew we wouldn’t have let you or your daughter starve. If Rosemary had come home, she would have been welcomed, too.”
Silence filled the air in the wake of her father’s reproof, and the tears Grace had fought so hard to hold back spilled onto her cheeks and dribbled down her chin. She didn’t understand how he could forgive whoever had broken into their home and his shop yet not forgive his sister or his own flesh-and-blood daughter. “You have every right to be angry with me,” she said with a sniff. “But no one could be any angrier than I am with myself.”
He continued to stare straight ahead, a muscle in his cheek quivering.
“Wade’s mother is dead now, and his father’s health isn’t good, so he brought Anna to me and asked that I raise her.”
Dad blinked rapidly, and he tapped his fingers against the tablecloth in quick succession. “Where is this man now?”
“He left soon after Anna fell asleep. Said it would be better that way.”
“I see.”
“Would … would you like to meet your granddaughter?”
He shook his head. “I need time to think about this. I need to understand why you would lie to your mamm and daed—why you would follow in your aunt’s footsteps.”
“I know it was wrong to keep the truth from you, but I—” Grace bit her lower lip to stop the flow of tears and pushed her chair away from the table. All she wanted to do was hold Anna and promise that she would never let her go again.
Grace left the kitchen, hurried back to the living room, and dropped to the floor in front of the sofa, where her daughter lay sleeping. Her heart thumped with fury and remorse. I should never have let Wade’s folks take Anna from me, no matter what they threatened to do. I should have packed up our things and brought my baby girl home with me, regardless of the consequences. Things would have gone better if I’d told Mom and Dad the truth right away. I should have told Cleon about Wade and Anna, too.
Grace hiccupped on a sob. Regrets wouldn’t change anything, and she knew she had to find a way to deal with her new situation. If only Dad had shown some understanding or offered a bit of support when she’d told him about Anna instead of comparing her to Aunt Rosemary, whom she’d never even met. Would Cleon respond the same way when she told him?
She glanced at the door leading to the hallway. Should she go back to the kitchen and try to talk to her father again? Would it do any good if she tried to explain things better?
Anna stirred, and Grace held her breath, waiting to see if her daughter would wake.
The child sat up, yawned, and looked around. “Poppy? Where’s Poppy?” she asked in a small, birdlike voice.
Grace searched for words that wouldn’t be a lie. “Your grandpa went home, but he’ll come back to visit sometime, I’m sure.” She smiled, hoping to reassure the child.
Anna’s eyes opened wider. “Poppy left?”
Grace nodded. “He wants you to stay with me now because he can’t care for you any longer.” She moved closer to Anna and reached out her hand. “I’m your mother. Your grandpa said he told you about me.”
Anna scrambled off the couch and raced for the front door. “Come back, Poppy! Come back!”
Grace rushed to her daughter’s side, gathering the child into her arms. “It’s going to be all right. You’re safe here with me.”
Roman sat at the kitchen table, trying to let Grace’s news sink into his brain. He felt betrayed and didn’t understand why she’d kept her first marriage a secret or why she’d hidden the fact that she’d had a baby and had given the child to someone else to raise. The one thing Roman knew was that he was a grossdaadi, and that his grossdochder was sleeping in the next room.
His shoulders sagged, and he dropped his head into the palms of his hands. This news would affect the entire family. And what of Grace’s new husband? How would Cleon deal with things?
His thoughts shifted to a silent prayer. Dear God, haven’t we been through enough these past few months with the break-ins we’ve had? Must we now endure the shame of our daughter’s deception?
The back door opened and clicked shut, interrupting Roman’s prayer. He lifted his head as his wife entered the room.
“Wie geht’s?” Judith asked with a cheery smile.
He groaned. “I’m not so good, and my day was going along okay until I came into the house awhile ago.”
A look of alarm flashed across her face, and she hurried across the room. “Was there another break-in or something else to upset things?”
“Oh, there’s an upset all right. Only it’s got nothin’ to do with any break-ins.”
“What is it, husband? You look so uffriehrisch.“
“I am agitated, and you had better sit down.” He motioned to the chair across from him. “What I have to tell you is going to be quite schauderhaft.“
She sank into the chair, her eyes full of question. “You’re scaring me. Please tell me what is so shocking.”
“We’ve got a grossdochder.”
Judith blinked as she let her husband’s words sink into her brain. “Is Grace in a family way? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
He shook his head. “I’m not talking about a granddaughter we might have someday; I’m talking about the one we have now.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “What are you saying, Roman? We have no grandchildren yet.”
“Jah, we do. She’s in the living room, asleep on the sofa.”
The muscles in Judith’s face relaxed, and she poked her husband on the arm. “You always did like to tease, didn’t you?”
His expression turned somber as he leaned forward in his chair. “I’m not teasing. There really is a little girl in our living room, and she’s Grace’s daughter.”
Judith sat rigid in her chair, her mouth hanging slightly open. “What?”
“It’s true. Grace was married during the time she lived among the English, and she … she had a baby girl.”
“But how can that be?”
“I just told you she was married before and—”
She held up her hand. “This makes no sense. If Grace is already married, then how could she marry Cleon?”
“Her husband’s dead. Died in a car accident, Grace said.” Roman pulled his fingers through the back of his hair and grimaced. “Guess her husband’s folks came to the funeral and took Grace’s baby to raise.”
As Judith tried to digest her husband’s astonishing story, her head began to throb. These last four and a half years, Grace had never said a word about having been married—or that she’d given birth to a baby girl. “Why would she do that, Roman? Why would our daughter let someone else raise her child?”
He shrugged. “She said it was because she was young and scared and didn’t think she could support the child.”
“But she could have come home, let us help raise the baby.”
Roman squeezed his fingers around the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. “Grace said she was afraid we wouldn’t understand.” He slowly shook his head. “She’s right—I don’t. I think she’s got my sister’s blood in her; that’s what I think.”
“What are you saying?”
“Hearing Grace’s story brought all the pain back that my family felt when my own sister left the Amish faith. Then Rosemary made things worse by marrying that Englisher who ended up taking her away from her family for good.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Nearly broke our mamm’s heart, it did.”
Judith stared at a dark spot on the tablecloth and struggled to keep her voice steady. “You can’t compare what our daughter did with your sister’s act of defiance. Rosemary left home and never returned or made any effort to contact your family or come home for a visit.” She swallowed a couple of times. “At least Grace returned home and joined the church, and she’s—”
Roman’s eyes snapped open, and his fist came down hard on the table, clattering the two glasses sitting there, nearly knocking them over. “She’s been lying to us all this time, Judith! Our daughter kept her marriage to an English man and the child she bore a secret, and I doubt Grace would have ever told the truth if her dead husband’s father hadn’t shown up on our doorstep with her daughter today.”
“Is … is the man still here?”
He shook his head. “Grace said he left soon after the child fell asleep on the sofa. His wife is dead, and he’s not well, so he brought his granddaughter here for Grace to raise.”
Judith pushed her chair aside and stood.
“Where are you going?”
“To meet our grossdochder. Wouldn’t you like to come along?”
Deep wrinkles formed on his forehead as he released a moan. “I do want to meet her; I’m just not sure I can.”
“Of course you can.” She held out her hand. “You can’t sit here all evening, fretting because Grace kept this secret from us. What’s done is done, and we need to put it to rest because we have a granddaughter to help raise.”
“But … but what will I say to the child—or to Grace?”
Judith shrugged. “I don’t know. The words will be on your lips when you need them, same as mine.” She moved toward the door. “Are you coming or not?”
He grunted and pushed away from the table.
Anna wiggled free from Grace’s embrace and pulled on the door handle. “Leave me be! I wanna go home! I want Poppy!”
Before Grace could react, her mother and father stepped into the room. “What’s going on? What’s all the shouting about?” Mom asked with a worried expression.
“Oh, Mom, I’ve made such a mess of things.” Grace nodded at Anna, who stood with her little body pressed up to the door, trembling from head to toe. “This is my daughter, Anna, and—”
“I know already. Your daed told me everything.” Mom knelt in front of Anna and reached out to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I’m your grandmother, Anna.”
“Grandma’s gone away and will never come back. Poppy said so.”
“I’m your other grandmother. My name is Grandma Hostettler.” She motioned to Grace’s father. “That’s Grandpa Hostettler.”
“Poppy went home! He … he’s never comin’ back.”
“That’s not true,” Grace was quick to say. “I’m sure he’ll write you letters and come visit whenever he can.”
Anna’s lower lip quivered. More tears flooded her eyes. The sorrow Grace saw on the child’s face tore at her heartstrings, but she didn’t know what she could say or do to make things better—for her or Anna.
Mom stood and reached for Anna’s hand. “Why don’t we go out to the kitchen for some cookies and milk? Does that sound good to you?”
“Got any chocolate ones?” the child asked with a hopeful expression. It was the first indication that she might calm down, and for that Grace felt some relief.
“I have chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies,” Mom said with a smile.
Anna sniffed and quietly nodded.
Mom touched Grace’s shoulder, and Grace found a measure of comfort in the gesture. “If we put our trust in God, He will see us through this, just as He helped us through those acts of vandalism awhile back.”
As soon as Mom and Anna left the room, Grace turned to face her father, her stomach lurching with nervous anticipation. “I’m sorry for keeping the truth from you. I know how disappointed you must be in me.”
“You’re right, I am disappointed and feeling more than a little verhuddelt right now.”
“We’re all confused. Anna most of all.”
His gave a short nod and then headed for the door. “Luke’s gone for the day, but I’m going back to work for a while.” He rushed out of the house.
“You’ve been awful quiet since we left town,” Martha commented to Ruth as their horse and buggy rounded the bend a short distance from home.
“I’ve just been thinking, is all.”
“What about?”
“Luke. He’s been acting awful strange for a couple of months, and as time passes, he seems more tense and sometimes unfriendly toward me. It makes me wonder if he wants to break up with me, but I haven’t had the nerve to ask.”
Martha clicked her tongue and shook the reins to get the horse moving faster. Her stomach had been growling for the last couple of miles, and she was anxious to get home and eat supper. “If Luke were my boyfriend, I’d ask him why he’s been acting so peculiar. If he really cares about you, he should be willing to share whatever’s on his mind.”
Ruth sighed. “I’ve tried talking to him about his strange behavior a couple of times, but he always changes the subject.”
As they pulled into their yard, Martha was glad to see her mother’s buggy parked near the barn. She was probably getting the evening meal started. Martha’s stomach rumbled again, as she thought about the good food they’d soon be having.
“I’ll help you put the horse away,” Ruth offered. “That way we can get into the house quicker and help Mom and Grace get supper on the table.”
“Danki, I appreciate that.”
After the horse had been rubbed down and put into his stall, Martha and Ruth headed for the house. When they opened the back door, Martha was disappointed that no tantalizing aromas greeted them. “Guess Grace and Mom must not be at home after all,” she said. “Otherwise we’d smell something.”
“Maybe we’re having cold sandwiches tonight,” Ruth commented.
“Jah, maybe so.”
When they stepped into the kitchen a few seconds later, Martha was surprised at the sight. Mom sat at the table with a young English girl. They each had glasses of milk, and the child nibbled on a cookie.
“Wie geht’s?” Martha called to their mother. “Who’s your little friend?”
Mom looked up and smiled, but the child kept eating, only giving Martha and Ruth a quick glance. “This is Anna, and she’s going to be staying with us.”
“Just ‘til Poppy comes back,” the child said around a mouthful of cookie.
Martha looked at Ruth, who merely shrugged. She turned back to Mom. “Who’s Poppy, and where’s Anna from? Don’t think I’ve ever met her before.”
Mom nodded toward the door leading to the hallway. “Grace is in the living room with your daed. It might be best if you let her explain.”