Andrea chewed on one of her painted fingernails, a lovely shade of pink she’d chosen specifically for today. And now she couldn’t even bring herself to get out of the car. She watched Blake, Charlotte, and an Amish man walking toward her. I’ll meet her, confirm what I believe to be true, then put it all behind me and never see the woman again. Andrea knew enough about her family already.
Charlotte came into view. She was an attractive woman with long brown hair, maybe a shade darker than Andrea’s. She was dressed in a black maxi skirt, a tasteful dark-colored blouse, and her black kitten heels were stylish. It wasn’t what Andrea had expected. Her sister didn’t have any makeup on. It seemed to work for her in a plain sort of way.
She put a hand on the door handle, forced herself to open the car door, then stepped out of the vehicle just as the trio reached her. Leaving her sunglasses on, she tried to smile. “Hello.”
Charlotte covered her mouth with both hands as her eyes filled with tears. Then with no warning, she threw her arms around Andrea and squeezed her in a giant bear hug. Andrea tried to hug her back, but it ended up being more of a pat on the back before she pulled away.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” Charlotte put a hand to her chest and smiled. She glanced over her shoulder where the three men were lowering Janell’s body into the ground. When she faced Andrea again, she was smiling even more. “I know this should be a sad day, but I can’t help but be happy. We have so much to talk about.”
Charlotte lifted up on her toes as she looked at the Amish man. “This is a miracle.” She turned back to Andrea. “I was going to search for you, but I’ve been busy with Janell, a new job, and getting my life back together. And I honestly didn’t know where to start.”
Andrea’s heart thumped wildly in her chest as her bottom lip trembled. “You were going to search for me, but you’ve been busy?”
Charlotte’s smile faded. “Um . . . I didn’t remember you until recently. I only had a faint memory of you after CPS took you away. In one of her vicious rants, Janell confirmed what happened. Trust me, wherever you ended up, you were better off not being with our parents. Ethan and I spent two horrible years in separate foster care homes, and the rest of the time . . . Well, let’s just say we didn’t have a lot of fond memories. I miss him terribly.” She smiled again. “But I’m so happy to meet you, and I have to believe Ethan is smiling from heaven.”
Andrea had never understood why she’d been the only one sent away. And she’d always assumed Charlotte and Ethan had each other to lean on, even if times had been difficult. Either way, too much time had passed with too much rough water under the bridge to seek out a relationship with Charlotte. “Listen, I know you just buried your mother, and—”
“Our mother.”
Andrea took off her sunglasses and peered at the sister she’d never known. Andrea’s sense of abandonment had festered for years. Charlotte’s explanation wasn’t an instant cure-all. “I have parents. Great parents. I came here today for closure. I paid a private investigator to learn about my biological background, mostly so I would have a medical history. And I know enough to be grateful that I was adopted by a kind and loving family. But I’m sorry for your loss.”
Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, then shut it. Any hope of getting to know her sister crawled into the car and slammed the door.
Blake shook his head. “Sorry. I thought maybe if she acknowledged that the woman who gave birth to her had really died, that if she saw you in person . . .” He shrugged. “I thought she’d be more interested in knowing her sister.”
Blake went around the front of the car, gave a quick wave to Charlotte and Daniel, and started to drive away before she had time to think. Her sister was leaving, and despite the woman’s hasty demeanor, Charlotte thrust her hand into her purse and fumbled for a pen. She wrote the license number down on her palm.
“Are you okay?” Daniel pushed a few loose strands of hair away from her face.
“I guess.” She dabbed at her eyes. “She said she came here for closure, and I got a definite sense that she’s not interested in pursuing a relationship. I’m sure it was hard for her to find out that she was the only one not returned to her biological family, but we were just kids. Actually Andrea was a baby.” Charlotte calculated that her sister would be twenty-four. Sniffling, she gazed up at Daniel. “She’s pretty, huh?”
“Not as pretty as you, but ya . . . she’s nice looking.” He reached for Charlotte’s hand and eyed the number written on her palm. “Are you going to try to find her?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know.” She’d been on emotional overload with Janell for months. And she missed Ethan even more today than usual.
Daniel squeezed her hand. “Be hopeful. She chose today to meet you, the day of your mother’s funeral. No matter the situation, Janell is the common thread for you both. Maybe Andrea is still sorting things out in her head, the same way you were for months after you found your mother.”
“Well, I didn’t exactly go looking for Janell. She was squatting in my house—in Ethan’s old house.”
“Let the dust settle, then you might try to talk to Andrea, if you find her from that license plate.”
“Maybe.” Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The phrase had been in her head all day, and she was sure the pastor hadn’t said anything like that during the service.
“Are you hungry?” Daniel started toward Charlotte’s big red pickup truck, and she put her arm through his and leaned her head against his strong arm as they made their way across the cemetery.
“A little.” She was disappointed that Hannah hadn’t invited everyone over for a meal after the service, which was customary, either at Isaac’s and her house or at her parents’ home. Charlotte was even more disappointed that Lena and Amos hadn’t attended the funeral. They’re my real family.
The Kings had embraced Charlotte not long after she had arrived in Lancaster County the first time, when she’d been searching for answers about her brother’s death.
“I’m going to stop by and see Lena and Amos. Something doesn’t feel right, and I have a hunch someone isn’t telling me something.”
Daniel stopped walking and turned to face Charlotte, and pain glowed in his gray eyes.
“Oh no. What is it? What’s wrong?” She took in a deep breath and held it.
“No one wanted to tell you today, but Lena’s cancer is back.”
Charlotte bent at the waist as she crossed her hands over her stomach. “No. No. No.” She recalled all the times Lena had stayed with Charlotte in Houston when she was getting chemotherapy. “They got it all. The chemo. The doctors said she would be okay.” She stood up, sobbing uncontrollably. “What stage?”
Daniel pulled her into his arms and stroked her head. “I don’t know. I heard Annie and my mom talking, and they said Lena would be having both her breasts removed.”
“She probably should have done that in the first place, but it’s such a personal choice. I’d never judge her, and I tried hard at the time not to influence her.” Charlotte swiped at her eyes. “Someone should have told me. You should have told me.”
“I was going to. Just not today. I figured you had enough on your plate.”
Daniel climbed in Charlotte’s truck, and it was a quiet ride to his house. Charlotte analyzed everything, and Daniel knew she was trying to sort things out in her mind. About her sister and about Lena. She’d buried the woman who gave birth to her, but Lena and Amos had slipped into the role of parents a long time ago.
Daniel reflected on how far they’d all come. Charlotte had first arrived shrouded in mystery with questions about her brother. Then she ended up moving here. She’d even given up her most prized possession—her dog, Buddy—when she moved to her own place. Amos had taken a liking to the Chihuahua during the time Charlotte had stayed with Lena and him, and Charlotte left the dog with Amos. She’d said at the time that Buddy was better off with Amos and Lena, but that was Charlotte, always putting others’ wants and needs before her own.
But Daniel’s heart was heavy for his own reasons. It wasn’t the right time to ask Charlotte about any future plans, but it took everything he had not to question her.
“Are you okay?” He took off his black felt hat, a dressed-up version of the straw hat he usually wore. He set it in his lap as the old truck rumbled down the road with the windows down, the smells of freshly cut grass, hay, and corn wafting into the truck.
Daniel and his father had already pulled their harvest in, but they hadn’t planted nearly as much this past year, making for an easier haul. Throughout his mother’s pregnancy, they’d all tried to pitch in to lessen her load, helping with milking, egg gathering, and the yard. Annie had assumed most of the laundry, housecleaning, and cooking.
“Yeah, I guess I’m okay.” Charlotte glanced at him before she shifted the gears in the truck.
“It’s just weird,” she said in a soft voice. “I really was going to look for Andrea, but I have a full-time job, plus I was taking care of Janell.” Lines of concentration deepened above her eyebrows and under her eyes. “I don’t understand why she was so indifferent.”
Daniel shook his head. “I don’t know, but I agree with you, that maybe she’s jealous or bitter that she wasn’t returned to her family when you and Ethan were.”
Charlotte shifted gears again, then tucked strands of hair behind her ears with one hand. “You heard her say that she had great parents, and probably a privileged childhood. You’d think she’d be happy about that, especially if she knew exactly how bad things were for Ethan and me.” She blew out a heavy puff of air. “I just want peace, and it seems like every time I get close, something else kicks my heart into overdrive again.” She frowned. “And not in a good way.”
“Peace comes when our soul is calm. Restlessness divides us from God, from the peace only He can provide.” Daniel faced forward and clamped his hands on the dashboard when Charlotte slammed on the brakes to stop at an intersection. He was undecided whether or not Charlotte was a bad driver, or if the truck just made her appear to be.
“I know.” She brushed hair out of her face. “I pray for peace constantly.”
“It will come.” Daniel’s mind drifted back to the bishop and his imposed deadline.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you . . .” She hit the gas pedal with a jerk as they shot forward. “I have someone coming to give me a quote about wiring my house for electricity. I can’t afford it right now, after paying for Janell’s funeral, but I figure it can’t hurt to at least get a price. That way I’ll know how much I need to save.”
Daniel swallowed back a knot that was forming in his throat. Did she realize the implications of what she was saying? “Uh . . . I thought you said you’d gotten used to not having electricity.”
“Well, I’ve gotten used to not using a blow-dryer or wearing makeup, but I don’t have an oven, and I miss a microwave.” She grinned. “And air-conditioning in the summer.”
Daniel was still letting the information soak in when Charlotte spoke again.
“Just think of all the meals I could cook for you if I had a regular oven and not just a cooktop.” She looked his way and smiled before she refocused on the road, just in time to hit the brakes again when a car pulled in front of her. Charlotte had said that riding in the buggies scared her, but Daniel was pretty sure they were safer in the buggy than when she was driving.
“But you never cook. You eat at Lena and Amos’s haus, or at our haus, or sometimes with Hannah and Isaac. And you don’t need electricity to have an oven. Ours runs on propane, the same way your stove top does. You just need a propane oven.”
“Well, if I’m eventually going to get electricity, I might as well wait and get an electric oven then. I can’t afford to buy one right now anyway, whether it’s propane or electric.”
Daniel stayed quiet for a few moments, until he couldn’t stand it anymore. “What are we going to do?” He pointed a finger at her, then back at himself.
“When, now?” She didn’t look at him, but she chewed on the side of her bottom lip.
“Ya. Now.” He’d taken his hat off, but he put it back on to protect his head every time she hit a bump, lifting him from his seat. “Now . . . and forever.”
Still gnawing on her lip, she shrugged. “I’m just taking things one day at a time. I have a job at the newspaper that I like now. I have to believe that I took care of Janell as best I could. And now I have to decide whether or not to seek out a relationship with Andrea.”
“What about our relationship?” He narrowed his eyebrows as he stared at her.
“What about it? You know how I feel about you.” She cast her gaze his way, then shrugged again. “I don’t think there’s any big rush to do anything. We’ve only been dating for a few months.”
It seemed like an eternity to Daniel. “Charlotte, do you want a future with me?”
She closed her eyes for a few seconds, which caused Daniel’s heart to hammer against his chest until she set her sights on the road again. “Do we have to talk about this right now? I just buried my mother.”
“Now she’s your mother? I thought she was just Janell.” He folded his arms across his chest, knowing he was acting like a child.
“Daniel, please. Please not now. I’m upset about Lena’s cancer, about Andrea, and, believe it or not, there is a level of sadness about Janell too.” She pulled into Daniel’s driveway but didn’t even put the truck in park. “Can we talk about us another time?”
Daniel nodded before he leaned over and kissed her. “Ya, sure.”
But as he got out of the truck, he thought about what the bishop had said. The clock was ticking. Maybe he should have told her that, but pushing Charlotte on any issue had never won him any points. And this was surely the biggest issue of Daniel’s life.
Charlotte pulled Big Red back onto the highway as tears flooded her vision. She blinked, allowing them to trail down her cheeks as she pondered what she was most upset about. Lena, Andrea, her mother’s death, or Daniel’s inquiries? He wanted them to have a future together, but Charlotte would have to adapt to Daniel’s way of life. Even though she loved him with all her heart, there was a lot to consider.
It wasn’t the clothes she would have to wear, the lack of electricity, or not having a microwave or air-conditioning that she was most concerned about. As she ran her hand along the oversized steering wheel of her 1957 red Chevy truck, her stomach churned at the thought of giving up her gift from Amos, along with her independence.
Amos had made a trade a long time ago with an English man, to satisfy the man’s debt. The old truck had been sitting in his back pasture until Amos got it running. She couldn’t recall her father giving her more than a spanking—or worse—but Amos hadn’t blinked an eye when he so freely gave Charlotte the truck.
She also couldn’t imagine driving a buggy around town more than ten or fifteen miles at a time. No more quick trips to Walmart. And her trek to work via buggy was going to be a long haul through all kinds of weather. But giving up Big Red tugged at her heart in a way she hadn’t expected.
But even all of those reasons didn’t add up to her biggest fear. She was scared of the commitment it involved—to Daniel and to God. What if she was baptized into the faith and messed up? What if her upbringing had left her too scarred to be a good wife? She came from a substandard gene pool. Did she really want to have children? Was she capable of being a good mother?
Large families were important to the Amish folks, and Daniel was no different. He’d mentioned wanting children plenty of times in passing, even before they’d fallen in love. But for now, for today, she wanted to focus on Lena.
She turned onto Black Horse Road and started toward Lena and Amos’s house. Bless their hearts for trying to protect her from the news of Lena’s cancer recurrence, but she felt detached from them, from the community. Everyone else seemed to know Lena’s diagnosis, and funeral or not—someone should have told her.
Maybe I think of myself more as family than they do.
She trudged up the porch steps of the King house a few minutes later, and Lena answered the door, wiping her hands on her black apron.
“You should have told me.” Charlotte didn’t try to control her tears. “Everyone knew but me.”
Lena pushed the screen open and held out her arms. “Mei sweet maedel.” She held on to Charlotte for a few moments, stroking her hair. “Surely, you understand why, ya?” Easing away, Lena cupped Charlotte’s cheeks in her hands. “You said good-bye to your mudder today, and we felt that was enough to handle.”
Charlotte gazed into Lena’s eyes. In a tearful whisper, she said, “You are more of a mother to me than Janell ever was.”
Lena stepped back and motioned for Charlotte to come in. Amos was sitting on the couch reading Die Botschaft with Buddy in his lap. She still missed the little guy: his shrill bark when she’d get home and the way he’d affectionately showered her with wet kisses as he wagged his tail. But he barely noticed her now.
Amos lowered the newspaper and took off his reading glasses when he saw Charlotte. Amos was a quiet man, but she had learned to communicate with him using few words. His expression usually said it all, and right now, his eyes were dark pools of fear as a muscle flicked in his jaw. Learning Lena was sick again was devastating for him. If Charlotte thought for one moment that she could have what Lena and Amos have, she’d hog-tie Daniel and drag him to the altar.
Amos wasn’t an affectionate person, but he locked eyes with her. “We are sorry for your loss.”
Charlotte sniffled. Amos assumed she was crying about Janell. “Thank you”—she blinked to clear her tears—“but I’m upset that no one told me about Lena.”
Amos lowered his head for a few seconds. “Lena will be fine.”
The man said it with such determination, Charlotte felt hopeful right away.
“He’s right.” Lena smiled as she looked down at her chest. “These breasts have properly nourished two fine children. They’ve done their job.”
Charlotte smiled back at her surrogate mother. Lena had been brave during all the cancer treatments before, and she seemed equally confident about her diagnosis now.
“I’m sorry you are upset that we didn’t tell you.” Lena folded her hands in front of her. “You are our family, Charlotte, so that had nothing to do with our decision to hold off telling you this news.” She pointed to the rocking chair. “Now, sit and dry your tears, dochder.”
Charlotte happily did as she was told. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Lena or Amos directly refer to her as “daughter,” and it warmed her heart.
“Now, tell us, how did everything go today?” Lena sat in the other rocking chair as Amos cautiously put his glasses back on and lifted the newspaper.
Charlotte crossed one leg over the other and relaxed against the chair cushion. “Okay, I guess. There were lots of flowers, and I appreciate that.”
Lena smiled. “I’m glad you were pleased.”
“There was a surprise guest at the funeral. Well, not really a guest.” Charlotte took a deep breath. “My sister showed up.”
Lena sat taller as she brought a hand to her chest. “The one you only recently found out about, or should I say remembered through your counseling sessions?”
Charlotte nodded. “Yes. It’s been awhile since I told you about it, but I’d had a faint vision about Andrea. I wasn’t able to put it all together until Janell confirmed that I had a sister who was taken from her when I was three or four.” She paused, picturing Andrea’s face, the way her cheeks dimpled, even if she wasn’t smiling. Just like Ethan’s used to do. But Andrea’s dark eyes had burned with an emotion Charlotte recognized.
“Anyway, she was there, but she didn’t seem interested in us getting to know each other.”
Lena scowled. “That’s a shame. I’m sorry to hear this.”
Charlotte slouched back into the chair a little, kicking her foot into motion. “She paid a private investigator to find out about her background. And it sounded like she was meeting me just to put some sort of closure on the whole situation.”
Lena tipped her head to one side. “Will you see her again?”
“I don’t know.” Charlotte stood and made her way to the window, then looked back at Lena. “Will you be having chemo again? Are you having surgery soon? What is the plan?”
Lena smiled. “Charlotte, I am going to be fine. The doctors have already said they feel fairly confident that they will be able to get all of the cancer by removing my breasts. If I need follow-up chemotherapy, I’ll be having it in Pittsburgh, most likely.”
Fairly confident?
“Where does your sister live?” Lena apparently wanted to change the subject too.
“I don’t know.” Charlotte tapped the windowpane with her finger. “She left before I had a chance to ask her much of anything.”
No matter how much her sister cited her great parents and life, Charlotte suspected something was amiss with Andrea. Charlotte had hauled bitterness around for most of her own life, and she had a way of recognizing it in others, no matter how hard a person tried to disguise the emotion. She’d carried around her own despair until she’d found her Amish friends, established a close relationship with God, and fallen in love with Daniel.
Daniel. How could she tell him about her fears? Is love enough when there is so much to consider? She’d hoped they could just continue on the way they were for a while longer, but Daniel was antsy. He wanted to know what the future held, and she couldn’t blame him for that. She just didn’t know.