CHAPTER
27

Once in the spare room, Gloria texted her mom by lantern light to let her know they’d arrived. She’ll see this when she wakes.

Knowing she would sleep better if she showered, Gloria hurried downstairs in her robe to what she recalled was the only bathroom in the house.

Why am I so wound up? Then, remembering all the coffees and Cokes she’d sipped throughout the trip, she knew why.

Gloria removed a towel from the beadboard cupboard in the bathroom, recalling that when Pete Speicher built the addition, her father had come over to help. Millie made sandwiches thick with meat, lettuce, and sliced American cheese, and Gloria managed to be polite and ate it, although she’d never cared much for beef tongue. “You’ll learn to like it,” Gloria’s mother had said, chiding her when she’d complained afterward.

“I doubt it,” Gloria had whispered to Leona as they helped carry odds and ends of construction debris out to the trash behind the barn.

Presently, Gloria set the small lantern in the corner of the bathroom. She started a bit at her reflection in the old medicine cabinet mirror, small though it was, and turned to get the water running in the tub, noticing the same rust stains where the faucet dripped. For a split second, she was eleven years old again and visiting Leona after school, though Leona had always preferred going to Gloria’s house.

I must be really tired, she thought as she turned on the shower and stepped in.

Suddenly, she realized that she wouldn’t be able to charge her phone tonight, not in a house without electricity. I guess I failed to take some things into consideration, she thought, surprised at herself.

———

Snug in bed, and before she let herself fall asleep, Leona thanked the Lord God and heavenly Father for traveling mercies . . . and for giving her and Gloria ample opportunity to talk heart-to-heart. Stretching out across the mattress, she could smell the appealing scent of fresh air and sunshine on the sheets.

I’m home. . . .

When Leona fell into a deep sleep, she dreamed that Gloria Gingerich was the new neighbor girl just over the creek and up the hill. . . .

———

After a quick shower, Gloria dried off and slipped into her bold cheetah-print pajamas—a far cry from what she’d always worn as a Plain girl.

Spotting her phone, she decided the best way to recharge it was to do so in the car, which could wait until tomorrow. If she needed Wi-Fi, there was always the option of going into town to the nearby coffee shop where she and Orchard John had sometimes gone to talk for hours at a time.

As Gloria tiptoed back upstairs, a promising idea came to her. Why couldn’t she simply go unplugged? Can I do it? she wondered, toying with the notion, and slipped under the sheets, then checked her phone once again. Darren had left several texts, but she was too tired to read them. She did take a moment to let him know she was safe and sound in Amish country, however, momentarily thinking that he might say she was anything but.

Gloria awakened just before five-thirty, feeling surprisingly renewed despite sleeping only a few hours. She got out of bed, put on her navy blue sweats and tennis shoes, quickly brushed her hair, and then made her way downstairs. The house was still at rest as she headed out to the porch, where she saw Brownie’s leash hanging from a wall peg.

“Guder Mariye, Brownie,” she said as the dog came toward her, tail wagging. “Let’s go for a walk, okay?”

At his hopeful expression, she leaned down to attach the leash to his collar and led him out the back door, then down toward the familiar road. The morning was fresh and brand-new in the gray light before sunrise, and Gloria’s cares began to slide off her shoulders.

“The perfect weather for Weschdaag,” she murmured, deciding she would return after a morning jog to help Leona and her mother with the Monday washing. “Maybe I’ll cook breakfast, too, if they’ll let me.” She remembered how Leona had tried repeatedly to help in the kitchen during her short visit.

It might not have been the wisest idea to go for a jog on so little sleep, yet she followed the road, moving slowly at first to stretch her muscles, still stiff from yesterday, Brownie at her side. The road turned north and crossed the rippling stream, and then the hill where, as a girl, she’d ridden her scooter or pulled her younger brothers in the wagon. Soon, the stately redbrick house came into dim view.

Slowing but not stopping altogether, lest she be seen as a stalker in sweats, Gloria glanced at the front yard as she neared, taking in the pretty white porch and the long lane to the north. Things looked nearly the same. Even the rope swing still hung from the giant oak in the side yard over near the potting shed.

Where you could swing so high you might fly . . .

How she yearned to stroll down the driveway lined with pink-and-white flowering dogwoods to the back of the house, knock on the door, and tell the residents she had absolutely loved living there. Did the new family have any idea what a wonderful house it was? Sometimes in the wee hours, the wind in the eaves had sounded like angels whispering. In the winter, the crackling of the front room’s fireplace had given her the feeling of safety, as well.

Do Amish live here?

She picked up her pace again but craned her neck to look back at the barn and outbuildings. There was no sign of a carriage.

The sky was growing lighter, so she could see that the washing was not yet out on the pulley clothesline. “Still early,” she whispered.

Leona would surely know who lived there, Gloria assumed, slowing again for Brownie, whose nose was propelling him into the grassy roadside as he followed the trail of some scent. She laughed at the sight of him on such an adventure.

She noticed the old stone wall that edged the pasture, the same grazing land that had offered nourishment to her father’s mules and other livestock, and felt a certain longing. Unable to resist, she sat on the wall and found that it was still cool to the touch. Fortunately, the sun’s rays began to warm her back as Brownie sat in the grass at her feet, panting hard, not having captured his earlier prey.

What was it about childhood memories? Were they sweeter because they were distant, hazy images? Ones without the stain of disappointment?

Gloria wanted to just sit there in this lovely spot where she used to wait for Orchard John to pick her up in his courting buggy. If I’d stayed against my father’s will, I could be married to Leona’s cousin by now. . . .

Recalling leisurely long walks with her Amish beau, and the work frolics they’d happily attended, she also recalled going with Orchard John when he went to help build a pig barn for his older brother. Only a few other girls were present that day, mostly there to bring food hampers to share with the young fellows.

Why did my father choose to take our whole family away from the life we’d built here? she mused.

Other questions flitted through her mind, but Gloria would not let herself get bogged down during what was supposed to be a time to get her thoughts straight. She needed this respite from the busy world she was now a part of.

Two Amish teenagers—the bishop’s granddaughters, Mary Sue and Sarah Ann Mast—came walking, carrying large wicker baskets, looking toward her at first, then glancing away quickly, talking in Deitsch.

Mary Sue said, “Would be nice to dress so relaxed like that sometimes, ain’t?”

Thank goodness she doesn’t recognize me, thought Gloria.

“I’d choose something brighter than dark blue, though,” Sarah Ann said, tittering at her sister’s remark.

Gloria squelched a laugh, knowing they didn’t realize she understood what was being said.

Then, looking down at herself, she knew she must get back to Leona’s house before her friend’s parents saw her dressed so casually. I’ll do my best to fit in . . . wear the long skirts I packed.

Three teams of horses and carriages were coming up the road, the second buggy a buckboard with two young men riding atop. She turned away so as not to be recognized.

———

The morning was dewy yet bright, and Tom and Danny had set out with Tom’s mare and their father’s spring wagon right after sunrise, wanting to get a head start on a few errands before either of them went to work. Tom hoped Leona had gotten home all right, though he guessed her and Gloria’s arrival was quite late, probably well after midnight.

How did Pete and Millie feel about hosting Gloria Gingerich now that she was no longer Amish?

Not far ahead, he spotted a young English woman in dark running pants and tennis shoes sitting on the stone wall with Leona’s dog, Brownie. He did a double take.

He turned to Danny. “Say, did ya see that young woman?” he asked, and Danny quickly signed that he, too, thought she looked familiar.

“It might’ve been Gloria Gingerich,” Tom said.

Red hair, Danny replied.

Danny has a good eye, thought Tom with a smile.

Whoever it is looks out of place here, Danny added.

They talked further, wondering who else would have Brownie out on a leash if it wasn’t Gloria. But why on earth would she be out so early if she and Leona had arrived in the wee hours?

It was a puzzle to Tom, but he’d already made up his mind to keep out of Leona’s way during Gloria’s surprise visit.

How long will she stay?