Lydia's Hope (15 page)

Apparently not at the moment, because he answered almost immediately.

“Chloe.” He sounded wary. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

A woman’s voice soared in the background. She sounded upset, although Chloe couldn’t
make out the words.

“If this isn’t a good time to talk . . .” she began.

“It’s fine.” The words were clipped. “Just give me a moment.”

Chloe heard his footsteps and the sound of a door closing. It cut off the woman’s
voice in midsentence.

Well. If she were his girlfriend, she wouldn’t appreciate being walked out on. It
could be his mother, she supposed, but the voice had sounded young.

“All right. I can hear you better now. Do you have more questions for me?”

Seth still didn’t sound particularly delighted at her call. Well, why should he? He’d
gone to considerable trouble to help out a friend, it seemed, and gained nothing but
grief.

“I do have questions, but I’m not sure you’re the best person to answer them.” She
took a breath, trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach. “I’d like to come and
see Lydia.”

There was a pause. “That’s quite a turnaround. Her letter must have been very persuasive.”

He seemed determined to nettle her.

“I appreciated her letter, but she didn’t try to persuade me to do anything. I’ve
decided it’s the right thing to do. That’s all.”

With a little help from Kendra, she added silently.

“When were you thinking of coming? The apple orchard is in bloom right now, so it’s
quite a sight. Lydia will be—”

“Not to the house.” She interrupted him, feeling a touch of panic at the thought of
the house where her mother had lived. “I don’t want . . . I thought we could meet
for lunch someplace.”

“A neutral meeting ground?” His tone was dry.

“Why not? I think you’re the one who suggested that initially, aren’t you?”

“I guess I did. Well, it’s better than nothing. Why don’t you want to come here?”

“Here? Are you at Lydia’s now?” Had that been her sister’s voice in the background?

“I’m at my mother’s. Standing on her back porch, to be exact, looking past the orchard
at Lydia and Adam’s house. I should think you’d want to see it. Your parents lived
there, after all. You were born there.”

That hadn’t occurred to her, but that only increased the sense of panic. She was learning
too much, too quickly. “I’d rather meet somewhere else, maybe for lunch in one of
the nearby towns. What about Lewisburg or Oyersburg? Or is there an easier town for
Lydia to reach?”

“You still didn’t answer my question. Why don’t you want to come here?”

It hadn’t taken Seth Miller long to annoy her. She suspected it was intentional.

“Visiting someone’s home involves a level of commitment I’m not ready to make.” That
was true as far as it went, and she hoped it would satisfy his curiosity. “And you
didn’t answer my question, either. Which town would be the best choice?”

Seth hesitated for a moment, making her wonder what he found difficult about deciding
on a place. Then he spoke.

“There’s a restaurant called the Plain and Fancy Diner in Oyersburg that’s popular
with both Amish and Englisch. When will you come?”

Chloe jotted down the name. “What about this Saturday? I’m in the middle of a project,
so I’d hate to take time off on a weekday right now.”

“I’m sure Saturday will be fine.” He was brisk, probably not wanting to risk her changing
her mind. “I’ll confirm it with Lydia and get back to you.”

“I’ll plan to be there around noon, unless I hear otherwise from you.” She studied
the map she had open on the computer screen. “Oyersburg looks fairly easy to reach
from the interstate. Can you give me directions to the restaurant?”

“When you come into town, you’ll see a park right in front of you, bordering the river.
Just pull into the parking lot. I’ll meet you there and take you to the restaurant.”

“That’s not necessary. I don’t need an escort.” And she didn’t think she wanted Seth’s
critical eyes on her when she met her sister for the first time.

“I’m not worried about you,” he said. “I’m thinking of Lydia. It will make it easier
for her if I’m there to introduce you.”

That still didn’t seem necessary to her, but if it smoothed the way, she could put
up with Seth’s disturbing presence for a short time.

“Fine. I’ll look for you at the park.”

“Think of me as your liaison with Amish life.” The annoyance had washed from his voice,
probably because she’d given in. Instead he sounded faintly amused, giving her a swift,
vivid image of his strong face, lips quirking slightly, gray eyes filled with laughter.

“I’ll see you Saturday,” she said quickly.

“You won’t back out, will you? I don’t want Lydia to get her hopes up if you’re going
to bail on her.”

“I’ve said I’m coming.” Just as quickly she was annoyed with him again. “I do what
I say I will.” She clicked off. For better or worse, the decision was made.

C
HAPTER
N
INE

S
eth
lingered on the back porch for a moment after disconnecting. So Chloe was willing
to meet her sister. Unfortunately she was also wary and somewhat defensive, which
wouldn’t help this reunion.

What was behind this reluctance of hers to see the place where she was born? He could
only think that she had some deep feelings about her birth family—feelings she wasn’t
yet ready to address.

He was a fine one to judge her on that score. He had his own set of complicated family
feelings, and right now he’d better go inside and deal with the latest crisis.

But when Seth reached the kitchen, he found that harmony had been restored. He shot
a questioning glance toward his mother, who stood at the stove, and she responded
with a slight shake of her head.

Jessie emerged from the enclosed porch where Mamm stored some of the fruits and vegetables,
an apple in her hand.

“Blackie deserves a treat for being so patient when we were at the store, ain’t so,
Mammi?”

Jessie was as pert and happy as if she were eight again instead of over twenty. Looking
at her rosy cheeks and sparkling blue eyes, he found it hard to reconcile her with
the virago who had been screeching like a crow only minutes before because Mamm had
forgotten her favorite kind of pudding.

“Take it out to him,” Mamm said. “But don’t forget supper’s nearly ready.”

Seth tensed, waiting for a snappish response to Mamm’s gentle words, but Jessie hurried
out, her steps as light as if she were dancing.

He waited until she was out of earshot. “The new medicine isn’t working as well as
the last one, is it?” He put his hand gently on Mamm’s shoulder.

“They said it might be some time before it would take effect, I think.” Mamm’s brow
furrowed, as if she wasn’t sure.

He should have gone along on that last doctor’s visit. Mamm wasn’t able to handle
the repercussions of Jessie’s bipolar disorder on her own.

“I’ll come with you to the next appointment,” he said, silently determined to confront
the doctor on the subject of Jessie’s medication. His mother had all she could do
to deal with her own recovery from the broken hip.

He glanced at her, his heart taking a blow at the sight of her drawn face. He’d been
gone too long, out in the Englisch world pursuing his own dreams and letting his mother
carry the burdens alone. If he’d never jumped the fence—

Regrets were seldom useful, and he couldn’t know if it would have made any difference
if he’d stayed. He took down plates from the cabinet and began setting the table.
It was Jessie’s job, of course, but he was doing it for Mamm, not Jessie.

His mother checked the chicken potpie keeping warm on the back of the gas stove, her
face intent. He’d suggested a few times that they have simpler meals or that he bring
food in from town, but he’d seen how unhappy it made her. To Mamm, feeding people
was her way of loving them, and he didn’t want to take that away from her.

If he hadn’t left, what would his life be now? It had been so long since he’d been
Amish he found it hard even to imagine. He might have married a local girl, someone
like Lydia, and have had a houseful of children. If so, Mamm and Jessie would probably
live with them, and his imaginary wife would see to it that Mamm felt useful without
overtaxing herself.

He shook his head, laughing at himself. A nice picture, but it wouldn’t have been
that way. He knew himself better. If he hadn’t gone, he’d have ended up bitter and
dissatisfied, probably making everyone around him unhappy as well.

Life was the way it was, and right now it was a delicate balancing act between doing
the work he found so fulfilling and caring for his family. And that was difficult
enough, without adding Chloe Wentworth to the mix.

“Seth? Your call—was it something wrong at work?” Mamm didn’t usually ask about his
job, preferring to ignore what she didn’t understand, but apparently he was letting
his expression show too much.

“Nothing like that. It’s actually good news. That was Lydia’s little sister, the one
I went to see in Philadelphia. She wants to meet with Lydia.”

“Ach, that is gut indeed.” Mamm’s tired face was transformed by her smile. She was
as happy for Lydia as she would have been for herself. “Lydia will be so pleased.
She has been grieving about it, I know. But you must go now and tell her.” Mamm gestured
with the dish towel in her hand, as if shooing the chickens. “We can wait supper for
you.”

“No, you can’t,” he said, escorting her firmly to her seat at the table. “You’re going
to sit right down, and I’ll serve.” He glanced at Jessie as she came in, cheeks rosy.
“Mamm is looking tired, don’t you think, Jessie? After supper maybe you and I can
clean up while she has a little rest. I’ll enjoy your company.”

Jessie’s response hung in the balance for a moment, but then she smiled. “You wash
and I’ll dry, ja?”

He nodded, lifting the steaming potpie with a towel. Lydia would be just as happy
with the news whenever he delivered it, and first he was going to see Mamm off her
feet and resting.

Lydia would be delighted to be meeting her sister, he knew. But he had a feeling Adam
wouldn’t consider this good news.

An hour later, Seth was discovering that doing the mundane chore of cleaning up the
kitchen with his sister had an unexpected benefit. Jessie, away from Mamm’s concerned
presence, seemed to relax with him, chatting away as if they really did have a brother
and sister relationship.

He didn’t know her, he thought, his heart clutching as she laughed at something he’d
said. Jessie was his own sister, and he didn’t know her. The age difference between
them was a barrier, of course, but he ought to admit the truth to himself, at least.
He’d been so caught up in his own angst about Amish life in his teen years that he
hadn’t spared much thought or attention for his baby sister. Maybe that had been an
excuse then, but it wasn’t a very good one for his neglect of his family since then.

“You’ll be going back to work after we finish the dishes, ja?” Jessie’s hands seemed
to slow on the pot she held.

“Not right away. I don’t have anything that has to be finished tonight.” He was a
little behind on his current project, but nothing he couldn’t make up in a few days’
time. Working out of a motel wasn’t the most comfortable situation, but he needed
the amenities it provided. Maybe it would make more sense to give up his apartment
in Chicago and look for a small place to rent around here, but he’d been hesitant
to take so final a step.

“You miss being in the city.” Jessie made it sound like an accepted fact. “You’re
only staying around to help Mamm.”

He was silent for a moment, trying to understand the intent behind her comment. “I
want to help Mamm, yes. It worries me that she’s still having so much trouble recovering
from her surgery. But you know what? I kind of like it here. Gives me a chance to
get to know my little sister.” He smiled, flicking the dish towel at her, and was
rewarded by her pleased flush.

“Do you miss it?” Her gesture seemed to take in the whole outside world.

“Some things,” he admitted. “But not as much as I had expected. I like my work, and
I can do it anyplace as long as I have a computer and the Internet.” He paused, wondering
how familiar Jessie was with the computerized world, but she nodded as if she understood.

“When you’re here, people know what it’s like to be a fence-jumper, ain’t so? That
makes it easier for you.”

He hadn’t expected that level of understanding from Jessie. “I guess that’s about
it. Out in the world, if I say I was Amish, some people look at me as if I was a freak.
And even if they don’t, they’re still . . . curious.”

That was the kindest word he could come up with for the often intrusive questions.
People tended to assume he was relieved to have escaped, as they would see it. They
didn’t understand that there were plenty of things he still missed about this life,
no matter how long he’d been Englisch.

Jessie seemed to turn inward. “It’s hard,” she said, her voice soft as a breeze through
the apple trees. “To be different.”

His heart twisted again. He’d often thought Jessie didn’t even realize she had a problem.
He’d been wrong.

“I have to go over to Lydia and Adam’s to give them a message. Would you like to go
with me?” He extended the invitation impulsively.

“You want me to come?” Her brows lifted in surprise.

“I have to tell Lydia something about her sister. Be sort of nice to have a woman
along.”

Jessie seemed to look at the comment from all angles, maybe to be sure he wasn’t making
fun of her. Then she nodded. “Ja, I would like to.”

In a few minutes they were walking across the orchard, the breeze teasing strands
of silky blond hair free of Jessie’s kapp. She brushed them back with one hand.

“It’s not bad news that you have for Lydia?” she asked when they’d gone about halfway.

“Not exactly. I think it will please her, but it’s still an upheaval in their lives.”

“Because she has an Englisch sister.” Jessie nodded. “I know.” She darted a sidelong
glance at him. “Were you sweet on Lydia, before you left?”

“What makes you think so?” He parried the question, surprised at how accurate her
intuition seemed to be.

“I just thought so.” Her gaze slid away from his.

“Maybe a little bit,” he said, remembering the night he’d taken Lydia home from the
singing. He’d wanted to kiss her, but he hadn’t quite dared. “It was a long time ago.”

“They say people never forget their first loves.” Jessie’s voice was wistful. Was
she thinking that was something she’d never know?

Lydia was already at the back door to welcome them when they arrived, no doubt having
spotted them walking through the orchard. “Seth, Jessie. How nice.” She gestured them
into the house, her gaze perhaps a little cautious when it rested on Jessie.

Small wonder. Lydia had coped with Jessie at her worst. And here came Adam, hurrying
from the barn, probably not too pleased to see Seth. Their lives were tangled together
in ways that were impossible to ignore.

“Do you have news?” Lydia’s eyes betrayed anxiety that she kept out of her voice.
Adam, no doubt seeing it as well, moved closer to her.

“Good news, I think,” Seth said quickly. “Chloe called. She wants to meet you and
Adam for lunch. We set it up for Saturday in Oyersburg.”

“For sure?” Joy bloomed on Lydia’s face, and she clasped her hands together. “That’s
wonderful-good news.”

“What made her change her mind?” Adam’s glance accused Seth.

“It doesn’t matter. At least she’s coming.” Lydia’s brows puckered. “But . . . why
isn’t she visiting us here, at home?”

“I’m not sure.” Seth skirted the truth. “She seems to prefer a neutral site for your
first meeting, and maybe that’s best.”

“I will finally see my sister.” Lydia squeezed Adam’s hand. “I’m so glad. Aren’t you?”

In other circumstances, Seth might be tempted to laugh at Adam’s expression. He was
clearly torn between supporting his wife and his own inclinations.

“For sure he’s glad,” Jessie said, surprising Seth. “I have an Englisch brother, so
I can tell you. Kin is kin, whether they are Englisch or Amish.”

There was a little silence after her words. Probably no one had expected such a statement
from Jessie, of all people.

“Jessie is right,” Lydia said softly. “Chloe is my sister first, and Englisch second.
We will be glad to welcome her, no matter where we meet.”

Adam nodded, a bit reluctantly, Seth suspected. He smiled at Jessie.
Well done, little sister.

* * *

Adam
woke sometime in the night, struggling out of a suffocating dream. Lydia had been
drifting away from him, her gaze on something he couldn’t see, and as hard as he tried
to reach her, her fingers slipped from his. He shuddered, knowing it was a dream but
not able to rid himself of the fear, and reached out to Lydia’s side of the bed to
touch her.

Lydia wasn’t there—the sheet was cool to his fingers as if she’d been gone for some
time. He shot up in bed, startled and wide awake. Lydia . . .

He let out his breath in a swoosh of air. Lydia was sitting on the floor by the window,
her elbows propped on the sill. She’d opened the window, and the chilly night air
made Adam shiver as he slid out of bed.

Lydia didn’t move. Didn’t she hear him? She stared out at something in the night,
and he couldn’t see her face. An odd apprehension touched him. Seeing her this way
was like seeing someone he didn’t know at all, and that was a frightening thought.

Could she be walking in her sleep? “Lydia,” he said softly, moving to her. “What are
you doing?”

She turned to look up at him, her smile dissolving the fear that had gripped him.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, her voice equally soft, although the boys slept so soundly
it was likely nothing short of a siren would wake them. “Look how beautiful the orchard
is in the moonlight.”

He bent, his gaze following the direction of her gesture. Moonlight touched the white
blossoms, turning them to silver. It was beautiful. It was also cold.

“Ja, pretty. Now come back to bed before you catch a chill.”

Lydia shook her head, her unbound hair moving like water. “It’s no use. I can’t sleep.
But you go back to bed. You need your rest.”

He surveyed her for a moment and then turned back to the bed. Instead of getting in,
he pulled off the double wedding ring quilt and carried it to the window.

Lydia looked up, startled. “What are you doing?”

He sat down next to her, draping the quilt around both of them. “If you are wakeful,
then I am, too.”

“Denke, Adam.” She snuggled into the quilt.

He looked for signs of strain on her face. If she was unable to rest because he couldn’t
find a job . . .