It was difficult for Grace to get ready for church the next morning, but she knew she must. When she’d put Anna in bed with her last night, the child had cried herself to sleep. Cleon had apparently followed through on his intention to spend the night in their unfinished house, because he’d never returned to her folks’ home.
“Anna, wake up. It’s time to get dressed and ready for church.” Grace leaned over the bed and gently shook the child’s shoulders.
Anna moaned but didn’t open her eyes.
“You need to get up and have some breakfast.”
Anna finally opened her eyes, which looked red and swollen. “Poppy. I want Poppy,” she murmured.
“I know you do, but your poppy had to go home. He’s sick and can’t take care of you now, so he brought you to me.”
Before putting the child to bed, Grace had tried to explain to Anna about her father dying and Grace agreeing to let his parents raise her baby girl because she was young and confused. The look of bewilderment on Anna’s face told Grace that the child didn’t fully understand, but with time and patience, she hoped to gain her daughter’s approval.
Grace opened Anna’s suitcase. Carl had packed plenty of winter clothes—several pairs of jeans, some sweaters, blouses, underwear, a pair of tennis shoes, snow boots, white patent leather shoes, slippers, a nightgown, and two pretty dresses—nothing suitable for an Amish child to wear to church. But she’s not really Amish, Grace reminded herself. It will take some time for her to feel as if she’s one of us.
“Anna, I believe your grandma is making pancakes for breakfast this morning. So let’s hurry downstairs so we can have some.”
Anna jerked the covers over her head. “Grandma’s gone. Poppy said so.”
Grace pulled them gently aside. “I was talking about my mother, Grandma Hostettler.”
Anna just lay staring at the ceiling as her eyes filled with tears.
Grace wanted to take the child in her arms and offer comfort, but she’d tried that last night and Anna had become hysterical. So she just stood there feeling as helpless as a newborn calf. When a knock on the bedroom door sounded, Grace hurried across the room, hoping it was Cleon. Martha stood in the hallway.
“I came to see if Anna wants to help me feed Heidi and Fritz,” Martha said, peering around Grace and into the room.
Anna shot out of bed before Grace could offer a reply. “Can I hold one of the puppies again?” Her pink flannel nightgown edged with fancy lace hung just below her knees, exposing her bare legs and feet, and her long brown hair was a mass of tangles. But for the first time, Grace saw a hopeful expression on her daughter’s face.
Martha leaned down so she was at eye level with the child. “As soon as we’re done feeding the dogs, you can hold a puppy.”
“Let’s go then!” Anna started out the door, but Grace caught her arm. “You can’t go outside dressed like that. It’s cold, and you need to put some clothes on first.”
Anna hurried back across the room, flipped open her suitcase, and removed a pair of jeans and a turtleneck sweater.
While the child dressed, Grace stepped into the hallway to talk to Martha. “I looked through the clothes Anna’s grandfather packed for her, and she’s got nothing to wear to church except for some fancy dresses and blue jeans. I wish I still had some of the dresses I wore as a child, but they were passed on to Ruth after I outgrew them, and if they were still in good condition, they became yours.”
Martha tipped her head. “All my childhood clothes are gone. Once I couldn’t wear them anymore, Mom gave them to one of our younger cousins.”
“I guess she’ll have to go to church wearing one of her fancy dresses,” Grace said, “but tomorrow I’ll get busy and make her a few plain dresses.”
When Cleon stepped into the Hostettlers’ kitchen, he realized that they’d already eaten breakfast and that Grace and her mother were doing the dishes.
Grace turned to look at him, her eyes puffy and rimmed with dark circles. Apparently, she hadn’t slept any better than he had last night. Cleon had bedded down on the floor of their unfinished living room, using the sleeping bag he’d kept there for times when he’d been working late on the house and had decided to spend the night. Besides the fact that the floor was hard and unyielding, his only source of heat had come from the stone fireplace that had been completed a few weeks ago.
Cleon had lain awake for hours, mulling things over and fretting about the secret Grace had kept from him. When he’d finally succumbed to sleep, he’d slept fitfully and much longer than he should have. Since today was Sunday, and he would be expected to be at the preaching service at the home of Mose and Saloma Esh, he had to go to the Hostettlers’ in order to get cleaned up and dressed for church. He’d also intended to get some much-needed breakfast.
“We’ve already had breakfast, but I’d be happy to fix you something to eat,” Judith offered, making no mention of where he’d spent the night. Why hadn’t Grace offered to fix his breakfast? She was his wife, after all.
“I’ll just have some coffee and toast, but I can get it myself,” he mumbled.
Judith shrugged and turned back to the sink, but Grace didn’t say a word. Was she angry with him for sleeping at their new house? Well, he was the one who had a right to be angry, not her. If it weren’t for Grace’s deception, everything would be fine, and they would have slept warm and toasty in their bed together last night.
Cleon glanced around the room. “Where are the others?” What he really wanted to know was where Grace’s English child was. He’d had such a brief encounter with her last evening, he couldn’t even remember if he’d been told her name.
“Roman’s out in the barn getting a horse hitched to the buggy, Ruth is upstairs changing into her church dress, and Martha’s helping Anna get ready.”
Cleon pulled his fingers through the beard he’d begun growing since his marriage and ambled to the stove. He didn’t know how he could go to church and act as if everything was okay when his world had been turned topsy-turvy, yet he had no legitimate excuse for staying home. So he would do the right thing and drive his wife and her daughter to church, but he didn’t have to like it.
The ride to church seemed to take forever, and it wasn’t because the Eshes lived far away. Fact was, Mose Esh’s place was only a couple miles from the Hostettlers’, but the tension Grace felt between Cleon and her made the trip seem twice as long. Her husband kept his gaze straight ahead as he guided their horse and buggy down the road. He didn’t say a word. Except for an occasional deep sigh, followed by a couple of sniffs, Anna was quiet, too.
Grace wasn’t sure what she should say to others in their community about the daughter they didn’t know she had, and she didn’t know how well they would accept Anna or how well Anna would accept them. When they pulled up to the Eshes’ barn, she climbed down quickly and reached for Anna. Then, forcing a smile, she took the child’s hand and led her toward a group of women who stood on the front porch talking with Mose’s wife, Saloma.
“Now who’s this little girl?” Saloma asked as Grace stepped onto the porch with Anna.
“She … she’s my daughter.”
“Your what?” Saloma’s mouth dropped open, and several of the other women gaped at Grace as if she’d taken leave of her senses.
Grace needed to explain Anna’s appearance, but she didn’t want to do it front of the child. She was relieved when she spotted Ruth and Martha talking to some of the younger women nearby. “Excuse me a minute,” she said, stepping off the porch with Anna in tow. “Would you two look after Anna until church starts?” she whispered in Ruth’s ear.
“Don’t you think it would be best if she stayed with you?”
Grace shook her head. “Not while I explain to Saloma and the other women who Anna is.”
“She can come with me,” Martha spoke up. “I’ll introduce her to Esta Wengerd and some of the other children who are close to her age.”
Grace blew out a sigh of relief. At least one problem was solved.