Lydia's Hope (26 page)

“Lead me to it,” he said, allowing himself to be led off. There’d be some point when
he could get an unobtrusive word with Chloe and find out how her visit was really
going.

“So, Lydia says we have you to thank for finding her sister Chloe.” Andy handed him
one pole and began unrolling the net.

“She’d have found her anyway,” he said, walking backward to extend the net. The support
ropes and pegs dangled, nearly tripping him up. “I just shortened the process.”

He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to claim credit for finding Chloe. But then, if
things ended badly between Lydia and her sister, he was bound to feel guilty in any
event.

“She seems nice,” Andy volunteered between thuds as he hammered the pegs into the
soft ground. “A little shy, maybe.”

“Wouldn’t you be shy if you found yourself with a whole new family?” Seth handed him
the next peg.

“Ja, I guess. But we’re nice, ain’t so?” Andy gave the final peg a whack. “There we
are. I’ll get the ball out for the young ones.”

Left to himself, Seth drifted back toward the table. Lydia’s kin seemed ready to accept
Chloe, despite her being Englisch. Maybe they were a bit more open than Adam was,
since Chloe was actually their blood relative, just like Lydia.

Chloe was talking to his mamm, now, leaning forward a little and smiling. Mamm would
have said something kind at once about Chloe’s mother. That was her way.

Then Jessie was butting into the conversation, probably resenting the fact that Mamm
was paying attention to this newcomer. Unfortunately that was
her
way. He hastened his steps, reaching Chloe just as Mamm steered Jessie away.

“I hope my sister didn’t say anything she shouldn’t have,” he said, not bothering
to disguise his anxiety.

“Not exactly.” Chloe’s expression held a question she probably wouldn’t want to ask
outright.

“Jessie’s having treatment for some emotional problems, complicated by the fact that
she’s apparently bipolar.” He shrugged, annoyed by the necessity of telling his family
problems to Chloe. “The doctors throw around a lot of fancy terms, but I’m sometimes
not sure they really understand it any better than we do.”

“That’s . . . difficult.” Chloe reached out as if to touch him in sympathy and then
drew her hand back. “Is that why you’re staying here?”

“Part of the reason. I have to have a base of operations someplace, even though I
can telecommute. This isn’t as convenient as being in Chicago, where the company is
headquartered, but my mother needs the support. I don’t see that changing anytime
soon.” He wasn’t sure why it seemed important to let her know what his priorities
were.

“Your mother is very sweet. She was telling me how happy my mother was here. In fact,
that’s what everyone says.” She gave him an accusing look. “I might believe it if
not for that entry in her journal. Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

He should have seen that coming, but he hadn’t. “I don’t think Lydia really meant
for me to know. It spilled out because she was upset. I’m sure she felt it was her
place to tell you, not mine.”

“I suppose so.” But Chloe didn’t sound as if that made it any easier.

“As I understand it, that was the only time your mother even hinted at unhappiness
in the entire journal. Isn’t it possible it was just a momentary feeling, quickly
forgotten?”

“I’d like to think so.” She looked at the surroundings, not at him. “I’d like to believe
she found what she was looking for here.”

“The reality you said she was searching for?” he asked, keeping his voice down as
a couple of the children ran past them.

Chloe looked back at him, her gaze suddenly intense. “She wanted to have a life that
was real. I just wish I understood what that meant to her.”

It wasn’t his place to supply Chloe with answers, but of all the people here, he was
the only one who might understand the feeling.

“I think I get that, in some small way,” he said slowly. “When I left, I was looking
for . . . I don’t know, adventure, maybe. Excitement. Something more complex and challenging.
And my life out in the world has been all of that. But living close to nature, close
to family, united in purpose and beliefs . . . those things are important, too. Is
it more real to grow a crop than to design a computer program? Maybe. At least the
crop is something you can touch and taste.”

Chloe’s gaze was focused on him now. “You sound as if you want to come back for good.”

“Not exactly.” He struggled for the answers he was still formulating. “I don’t think
I could be satisfied being Amish again. But I’m beginning to appreciate what I gave
up.”

Chloe nodded, as if that made sense to her. He wasn’t sure it did to him.

“I can understand why you love it here.” She waved her hand at the scene. The land
stretched out to the distant ridge, green and fruitful. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is. The life is peaceful, but it’s not easy.”

“I’ve seen that already.” She frowned at the men, who’d started a game of volleyball
while the women scurried back and forth, taking care of the meal. “Is it always like
this?” She asked the question abruptly, a tiny frown line between her brows.

“Like what?” He wasn’t sure what she meant.

“Men doing one thing; women another.” The frown deepened. “Lydia seems to be constantly
busy, working every minute since I got here. It looks to me as if the men rule the
roost.”

She was seeing a patriarchal society in which the men made all the rules, and he wasn’t
sure he could explain the tenets of Amish life in a few words.

“The Amish believe in the Biblical principle that the man is the head of the family
as Christ is the head of the church. That doesn’t mean he sits back like some Oriental
potentate being waited on.”

“Doesn’t it?” She sounded troubled.

“No, it doesn’t. It means, in practice, that husband and wife each have their own
sphere of influence. Most Amish husbands wouldn’t make any major decisions without
coming to an agreement with their wives.” He was getting a little bothered now, even
though he understood how Amish life must look to a modern, independent woman. “If
you were here studying Amish customs for your museum, you’d probably bring a less
biased eye to the subject.”

“I guess I would, but it’s different when we’re talking about my mother and my sisters,
not some sociological study.”

Seth took a breath and hoped for the right words. “All I’m saying is that you can’t
judge Lydia’s life by the world’s standards. You owe it to her to respect her beliefs.”

Chloe still looked unconvinced, but before he could say anything else, someone rang
the bell that was mounted on the back porch. Everyone began surging toward the tables.

Chloe was swept away by Lydia, and he watched her go with a sense of foreboding.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

R
eli
eved
that the May evening had stayed mild and dry, Lydia walked over to join Mamm and Chloe
where they sat watching the volleyball game after supper. Seth had run his mother
and sister home and then come back, and the sisters-in-law were making noises about
collecting their young ones and heading home.

“The men act like they’re boys again when they start a game,” Mamm observed. “Your
daad will be grumbling about sore muscles tomorrow, I think.”

“They’re having fun, anyway,” Lydia said, glancing at Chloe. Had she been having fun?
Well, probably not fun, exactly.

But this visit had gone better than it might have. There had been those tense moments
when she’d had to show Chloe their mother’s journal, but afterward they’d been comfortable
again.

Chloe hadn’t turned her head in response to their comments. In profile, she looked
rather like Susanna, except that her face bore a more guarded look than Susanna’s
gentle expression.

Lydia suppressed a sigh. She still wasn’t sure what Chloe thought about their mother’s
apparent regrets. Probably it was too much to hope that Chloe would open up about
her feelings this soon.

She sent a pleading look toward her mamm, longing for some other conversation to fill
the silence that seemed to have grown between them.

“I heard Adam did a few days’ work with Joseph Beiler at the machine shop,” Mamm said,
probably saying the first thing that popped into her mind. “It went well, ain’t so?”

Lydia nodded. “Ja, I think it was gut. Usually Samuel and Joseph can handle the work
themselves, but they’d gotten behind with the concern over Joseph and Myra’s new baby.”

Chloe turned her head, as if taking an interest, encouraging Lydia. “Joseph and Myra
Beiler are part of our church district,” she explained. “They have two little girls,
one with Down’s syndrome. Such a sweet child. Myra always says God gives His special
children an extra measure of sweetness. And now they have a healthy baby boy.”

“You said that Adam worked for him for several days?” Chloe’s eyebrows lifted. “What
about his regular job?”

Lydia wasn’t sure she appreciated the edge in Chloe’s voice. “He had been working
at a travel trailer business in a nearby town, but they had to lay off most of the
workforce because orders were down.”

Chloe sent a frowning look toward Adam, who was spiking the ball toward Seth’s feet.
“Why isn’t he doing something to find a new job?”

“He is.” Lydia’s heart sank. For some reason, Chloe and Adam seemed destined to see
the worst in each other. “He has applied many places, but jobs are hard to find these
days.”

“Maybe if he had more than an eighth-grade education it wouldn’t be so difficult.”
Chloe’s words were sharp, and for an instant Lydia was shocked into silence.

“That is not our way,” Mamm said gently. “Eight years of schooling is enough for the
lives our kinder will lead.”

Chloe’s lips pressed together, and Lydia had a sense she was holding back the words
she wanted to say.

“Is this about Adam?” Lydia asked, her voice soft. “Or are you thinking about our
mother?”

Chloe made an impatient gesture. “I’m not arguing about your right to live the way
you want. But Diane was raised to attend college, to achieve things, and to have a
good life.”

Be careful. Don’t make her angry.
But even as Lydia thought the warning, she knew she couldn’t let that pass without
an objection.

“People don’t always agree about what is a good life,” she said. “The Amish believe
in humility, not pride. In cooperation, not competition. Those values come from the
Bible.”

Mamm nodded in agreement, but Chloe was already shaking her head.

“That attitude is just not practical in the modern world.”

“And that is the very reason we live apart from the modern world,” Lydia said. “Our
world is different.”

“It seems to me it’s a world where men give all the orders and women do all the work.
Look at Adam.” Chloe flung out her hand, her cheeks flushed.

“What about me?” Adam’s words fell into the conversation like a heavy weight thudding
to the earth.

Chloe spun to face him, obviously no more aware than Lydia that the game had ended.
Lydia could only be grateful that Daniel and David were helping their aunts and uncles
get the little cousins into the wagons, so they weren’t near enough to hear the sharp
words.

“You’re not taking care of your family.” Chloe shot out of her chair, ignoring a calming
gesture from Seth, who stood behind Adam. “I’ve seen how hard Lydia works, and you
don’t even have a job. I suppose you’re an example of the Amish way of life.”

For a moment the silence seemed to sizzle like bacon on a hot pan. Chloe’s face was
flushed and passionate, while Adam’s was pale and set.

Pain clutched Lydia’s heart. It was suddenly very clear to her what she must do, and
it was an action that would undoubtedly cost her the tenuous relationship she’d started
with her sister.

“You are wrong, Chloe,” she said, keeping her voice calm with an effort that strained
her throat. “Marriage isn’t about one person taking care of the other. Marriage is
about both people taking care of each other. Maybe, when you marry, you will understand
what I’m saying. But I won’t allow you to speak to my husband that way.”

Lydia heard a surprised, indrawn breath from someone, but she didn’t turn her head.
She stared at the little sister she’d longed so much to meet.

Chloe’s gaze didn’t waver. “You wanted me to come and see the Amish way of life. So
I did. And now I understand why our mother wanted to leave.”

* * *

Chloe
zipped her suitcase closed and took a last look around the room the next morning.
She didn’t suppose she’d be seeing it again.

A strained silence had existed since that unpleasant exchange the previous evening,
broken only by a few very polite words. Chloe had lain awake despite the comfort of
the bed, going over and over the situation without finding a resolution.

She shouldn’t have spoken as she had—she had to admit that, at least. She’d violated
a number of rules of polite conduct by speaking so plainly when she was a guest in
someone’s home.

But it was the truth, wasn’t it? She’d said what needed to be said. If her mother
had had the chance to leave when she’d wanted to, Lydia and Susanna would have normal
lives now.

Chloe’s heart twisted painfully. Her mother would still be alive. There would be happy
memories of a lifetime spent together instead of an empty place inside her where a
mother’s love was supposed to be.

Chloe picked up the case and headed downstairs. She’d say her good-byes, and this
difficult interruption in her life would be over.

Lydia was in the kitchen, standing at the sink. She turned at the sound of Chloe’s
approach, drying her hands on a dish towel. “Adam has left to walk the boys to school
already. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep them until you came down.”

“That’s all right. We said our good-byes last night.” She’d hugged each of the children,
feeling their small, sturdy bodies against her, and wished she could believe she’d
see them again. “I . . . should get on the road.”

Lydia bowed her head for a moment. “Ja, I understand. I will walk out with you.”

They reached the car in silence, and Chloe stowed her bag in the backseat, then opened
the driver’s side door. Her heart urged her to say something to mend the breach between
them, but there was nothing she could say and mean that would accomplish that task.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Lydia.” She stood facing her sister for a moment.

Lydia nodded, her face somber. She reached out tentatively, as if not sure her touch
would be welcome. Throat tight, Chloe gave her a quick hug and stepped back, turning
to slide into the car.

Lydia put her hand on the door as Chloe started to close it. “I am sorry, Chloe,”
she said. “Sorry that you did not find what you were looking for.”

There was nothing else to be said. Chloe closed the door and pulled away, blinking
at the tears that stung her eyes.

Go back where you belong,
she told herself firmly.
There’s no other way.

She’d nearly reached the end of the lane when she saw him. Seth was leaning against
the fence post, looking as if he’d been there for some time. At her approach, he stepped
out into the lane.

Suppressing the urge to drive right past him, she stopped and touched the button that
would roll down her window. “I suppose you’re waiting for me.”

Seth placed his forearm against the doorframe and bent his head, apparently to study
her face. Whatever he saw didn’t seem to make him very happy, not that it mattered
to her.

“So you’re just going to give up on your relationship with your sister, is that it?”

Her temper flared. “I tried to do what you wanted.”

“Not hard enough,” he shot back. “You were unjust to Adam. He’s a hard worker, none
harder. And he’s devoted to his family.”

“I don’t see it that way. Maybe you just think that situation is normal because you
were raised that way. You were wrong to get me involved to begin with.” She was probably
being unfair to him, but unshed tears were pressing against her eyes, and her temples
were throbbing.

He stiffened. “It’s not wrong for the Amish to live the way they believe God tells
them to.”

“I doubt very much that my mother was looking for God’s will when she joined them.”

Seth’s face hardened. “Is this about Lydia and Adam, or is it about your mother? You’re
letting your feelings about losing her blind you to the quality of Amish life.”

Those words hit too close to home, and all Chloe wanted to do was hit back. “You’re
a fine one to talk. You’re trying to have it both ways—waffling between two worlds.
What’s wrong, Seth? Can’t you decide where you belong?”

He flinched at her words, and she instantly regretted them. She was hitting out blindly,
trying to ease her own pain. That wasn’t fair.

“You know, I figured out from the beginning that your grandmother was prejudiced and
unforgiving.” Seth looked at her with distaste. “I just hadn’t realized she’d done
such a good job of passing those qualities on to you.” He stepped back, indicating
the road with a sweep of his arm. “Maybe you’d better hurry back to where you belong.”

“I will.” She tramped on the gas and surged out onto the road.

* * *

Adam
had thought life would return to normal once Chloe had gone home. He’d been wrong.
For the few days since Chloe’s departure, Lydia’s sorrow had been obvious, all the
more painful because she tried so hard to hide it.

Adam opened the mailbox and was surprised to find it contained something in addition
to the usual copy of the
Budget
newspaper. The plain white envelope was addressed to Lydia, and the postmark was
Ohio. He took a breath. This must be the answer to the letter Lydia had written to
her mother’s close friend out there.

Was this a good thing or not? It could go either way, depending upon what the woman
had to say. But at least it might distract Lydia from her grief. He certainly hadn’t
been able to do so.

When he’d heard her defending him to her sister, he’d thought that things between
them were back to normal. But the cost of her speaking had been her relationship with
Chloe, and maybe that cost was too high to bear.

Heading back up the lane toward the house, Adam said a silent prayer that the letter
would contain good news. In any case, it would be God’s will, but was it wrong to
hope that in this, God’s will was also his longing? The Lord certainly must know that
he and Lydia needed something to mend the chasm between them.

A cool breeze swept across the field, bending the grasses. Clouds massed along the
western ridge, a sure sign that a storm was coming. A distant rumble of thunder hastened
his steps. He’d take the letter to Lydia first, but then he’d best get the animals
in and see where the boys were.

Adam took the back steps in a long stride and reached the kitchen. Lydia looked up
from the cookie dough she was dropping onto a baking sheet, and his heart hurt at
the obvious effort she made to smile in greeting.

“Gut, you’re home. I was afraid it might be another long day.” There was an unspoken
question in her eyes.

“I stopped by the mill, and Caleb Brand was there picking up some wood for a cabinet
he’s building. He asked me to work a few days for him next week. He and Will have
been getting some big orders from a store in Lewisburg, and they could use extra help.”

“That is gut news.” Her smile warmed to something a little more natural. “Caleb liked
the work you did on the clock, ain’t so?”

He nodded, trying not to feel pride at the memory. “Ja, he was pleased. He said maybe
I should put up some cards around town for clock repair. There’s nobody else in Pleasant
Valley who does that work.”

“Caleb has a clever head for business. It seems like a gut idea, ja?” She looked at
him with caution in her face, making him think that he’d been a bit prickly over his
job hunting.

“I told him I would talk to you about it.” He nodded toward the window. “There’s a
storm coming down the valley, so I need to get the animals in. But you’ll want to
see this first.” He handed her the envelope. “It looks like a reply to your letter.”

Lydia took it, staring down at the envelope with her eyes wide, almost scared-looking.
She sank into the nearest chair. “I never really expected to get an answer so soon,
even though I’d been hoping for it every day.”

“Aren’t you going to open it?” He should be there when she did, in case she needed
support.

Lydia nodded, ripping the envelope open. She pulled out several sheets of paper. “It’s
from my mother’s friend. ‘I was happy to hear from you, Lydia. I often wondered what
happened to dear Diane’s kinder, and now I know.’” She glanced up at him. “She sounds
like a nice person.”