Missing with Bonus Material: The Secrets of Crittenden County, Book One

by Gray, Shelley Shepard

  “What’s open adoption?”

  “From what I can figure out, it means that everybody can keep in touch if they want. So, you know, there wouldn’t be any secrets.” She rolled her eyes. “I guess they wanted to be the only ones keeping secrets.”

  “When are you going to call the agency?”

  “When I get up the nerve.”

  “Well, when you get up the nerve, and if you do set up a meeting, I’d like to take you.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not? I mean, unless you have plans to go with anyone else?”

  “I don’t have plans with anyone else.”

  “I have my truck, so it would be easy for you just to go with me. And I’d be fine sitting in on it, or waiting for you.”

  Looking as startled as a frightened doe, she looked closely at him. “Really? You’d do that?”

  He shrugged. “We’re . . . friends, right?”

  “Oh yes. Right.”

  By this time, they were standing in the front of the store. Walker could hear Mr. Schrock’s voice carrying through the partly open door. “When do you want to go?”

  “Can you stop by my house sometime tomorrow? I’ll try to work up the nerve to call this afternoon.”

  He smiled, glad she was going to let herself move forward instead of being frozen with worry. “I can do that.”

  “And Walker?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I just want you to know . . . you’re not the first boy I’ve kissed.”

  “I figured that.”

  Her voice turned sassy. “So I don’t want you to think I’m going to get all dreamy-eyed around you and start thinking that the two of us are something we aren’t.”

  “Good. Because, you know, I’m not looking for a girlfriend.”

  “I’m not looking for a boyfriend. Not at all.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Of course, if he was so glad, why was he feeling more than a little jealous? She bit her lip, his eyes followed. “I’m going now. Bye.”

  He raised a hand and walked to the door. Made sure he didn’t look back at her.

  And swallowed hard before he greeted Mr. Schrock and whatever else was waiting for him.

  An hour before, her father had lit a fire; the room was so cozy now, and one by one, all of the Plank siblings settled in the room. Reuben was reading a farm journal, Lydia playing Trouble with Becky and Petey. Her mother was mending yet another pair of Petey’s pants, and her father had a book open.

  Lydia knew there was going to be no better time to do what she had to do.

  “Hey,” she said. “I have some news.”

  Reuben looked up. “Some new boy is gonna come calling?”

  “Ha, ha.” Nervously, she tried to imagine an easy, casual way to give her announcement. But of course there wasn’t a way to tell this easily. “I know some of you have heard things . . .” She glared at Becky. “But I thought it was time to have it all out in the open.”

  The room had gone so silent, it seemed as if the shock had pulled out all of the air from the room. Petey frowned. “What are you talkin’ about, Lydia?”

  She looked at her parents for help, but only saw heartbreak on her mother’s face and displeasure on her father’s. “Mamm and Daed told me that they adopted me from a children’s home in Paducah. And tomorrow, I’m going to visit it to see if I can learn about who my birth parents are.”

  “What’s a children’s home?” Petey asked.

  “A place for children whose parents don’t want them,” Reuben stated.

  As mother closed her eyes, her father glowered. “Reuben, that ain’t so, sometimes something happens to a parent and they aren’t able to take care of their children. They get sick or die.”

  Becky’s eyes widened. Looked scared. “Why were you there? And how did Mamm and Daed know to come get you?”

  Reuben folded the paper and raised his voice. “And how come we never heard about it?”

  Lydia felt a small bit of satisfaction hearing the same questions out of her siblings’ mouths that she’d thought a dozen times, especially since Becky and Reuben were keeping their mouths shut about overhearing the earlier conversation.

  But as she glanced toward her parents, she saw anger in their eyes. Her mom’s eyes were filled with tears as she looked out the window.

  Her father stood up and pointed to the doorway. “You all may leave now. We will discuss this later.”

  “Daed, we might as well talk about this now,” Reuben said. “It’s not like it doesn’t affect us.”

  “Reuben, you go out. And take your brother and sister with you.”

  Just as Lydia got to her feet, too, her father pressed his hand on her shoulder. “You may stay here, Lydia.”

  She stood fuming. Even though it had been uncomfortable, her parents should have allowed her to talk to her siblings about this. Out in the open.

  When the room was cleared, her father spoke. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I had no choice. We’re talking about my life. I don’t want who I am to be some closely guarded secret. Not anymore.”

  “You are breaking my heart, Lydia,” her mother said through a wash of tears. “Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine you would react this way when your father and I told you the news. I can’t believe you told them all that you are going to visit that place.”

  “Mamm, you told me I could contact the adoption home.”

  “But I never thought you really would!”

  Lydia glanced her father’s way.

  His eyes were solemn when they met her gaze. “This search you’ve begun . . . you canna stop it?”

  “I didn’t say that. But I think I need to do it.” It was so much easier to stay focused on her father instead of her mother’s tears. “I’m not going down this path just to make you upset.”

  “We still are, however.”

  “I still love you both. You know that.”

  “I know that, daughter. Of course I know that,” he said softly.

  “If you love us so much, why do you need to know who birthed you?” her mother asked from behind a curtain of tissues. “Why does it make a difference?”

  “Because these people are part of who I am.”

  “Nee. You are Lydia Plank. You are our child. That is all you need to know.”

  “Maybe when I was a child,” she agreed. “But I am no longer a child. I’m a grown woman, and I deserve to know why I was given up for adoption. I need to know who these people were. Only when I know what really happened will I be able to know what to do next.”

  “I don’t want you to leave us.”

  Incredulous, Lydia said, “Mamm, you don’t truly think I’m going to go find my birth mother and suddenly want to be with her instead of you?”

  A flash of guilt formed in her mother’s eyes before she blinked. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

  All the self-pity she’d been clutching evaporated. In her parents’ faces, she saw raw vulnerability. Truth was, Lydia was a little nervous, too. She didn’t know what she was about to discover, or how she would deal with things when she did.

  But more than all the doubts that warred inside her was the complete sense that God was on her side. Only He could have given her parents the strength to tell her the truth—and He had been with them and her birth parents all those years ago.

  She felt sure that He had brought Walker into her life at just at this moment, too. Otherwise, it all seemed too farfetched that an English boy who she’d known only in the slightest of ways would suddenly become so very important to her at this moment in her life.

  And though she’d always sought to listen to her parents and take their advice, at the moment He was whispering in her ear, telling her that this was the time to do what she needed to do.

  “Mamm, Daed, tomorrow, I’m going to go to the adoption agency and maybe even to the courthouse—wherever I need to go in order to discover the truth about my past. Walker said he’d come with me
.”

  “Why do you need that English boy to go?” her mother asked, her tone accusing.

  “We’re friends. I’ve told you that.”

  “Accompanying you to the adoption agency sounds like he’s more than that.”

  Here was her chance. “I think God is behind all of this, Mamm. I think He must have felt the time was right for us all to discover some truths. With His help, that detective will soon learn who killed Perry. And I’ll know more about my past.”

  “And what about that boo—? That boy?” her father asked. His tone seemed to convey everything he thought—basically that she was being foolish, and that the person she was spending time with was foolish, too.

  “He’s not a boy, Daed. He’s a man, and he’s making his own decisions, with God’s help, just as I am.” Recalling their kiss, but even more than that, recalling the complete sense of peace she’d felt in his company, she smiled slightly. “I like him.”

  Her parents exchanged glances. “Like him, how?”

  For a moment, she was tempted to gloss over her feelings. To evade their piercing looks and searching expressions. But she was done acting like a child. “I like him as I’ve never liked another man. I think I might even be falling in love with him,” she added, somehow managing to surprise both her parents and herself with that one remark.

  Her mother opened her mouth, closed it quickly, then looked like she was fighting her own struggles to valiantly keep more sharp retorts to herself.

  Her father watched his wife attempt to stifle her tongue and chuckled. “Lydia, dear, you are mighty wise. If I ever had any doubts as to if our Lord kept his sights on us, that he was working by our side to guide us, what just happened has surely made all my misgivings disappear. Only God would be able to stifle your mother’s tongue at a moment like this.”

  Lydia felt her eyes prick with tears. Here she’d defied their wishes about keeping her adoption and her birth mother a secret from the rest of the kids, about Walker, and even about visiting the adoption agency. But instead of pushing her away, her father was making jokes. Suddenly hopeful, she looked to her mom.

  Who, after sending a look of irritation her husband’s way, sighed. “Jah. God is gut. And as for your feelings for this Walker . . .”

  “Yes?”

  Her mother shrugged. “Well, I suppose it is out of my hands.”

  “I didn’t mean to do any of this . . .”

  Her mother glanced upward to the sky. “But someone else did, jah?” Opening her arms, she motioned Lydia forward. “I know you’re a woman and all, and that I didn’t actually bring you into this world . . . But do you still have a hug for me?”

  “Always,” she said, hugging her mother tight. “Of that, you should never doubt. I love you, Mamm. I love both of you.”

  “I don’t want to lose you, Lydia,” she whispered.

  “You haven’t lost me, Mamm. I promise you that.” And with that promise, some of the tension that had surrounded the three of them dissipated.

  After kissing her cheek, her father turned to the window. “Ah, it looks like Walker is here. You’d best go see him.”

  “Okay.”

  “Lydia?”

  She paused. “Yes, Mamm?”

  “Ask Walker if he’d like some oatmeal cookies, if you’d like. I made them fresh this morning.”

  Her mother’s peace offering made the tears that she’d been holding back break through. With tears running down her face, she felt pure relief—mixed with pure happiness as she caught sight of Walker again. It hit her hard. “I’ll do that. I’ll ask him about the cookies right now.”

  She scampered out of the room, through the front door, and down the steps. “Walker?”

  He stopped. Smiled at her brightly. “Hey, Lydia.”

  “Would you . . . would you like some cookies? My mamm made them fresh today.”

  He stilled, looked at her, looked beyond her to where he, and Lydia, realized her parents stood, watching. And then he nodded—just as much for her as for them. “Cookies sound great. Thank you, Mrs. Plank.”

  “You . . . you are most welcome, Walker,” her mother replied graciously.

  Glancing toward her father, he caught her eye and winked.

  Suddenly, everything in her world felt just right. Maybe even better than that.

  Chapter 22

  “I never could understand why Perry thought something was missing from his life. Until recently, that is. Now I understand completely.”

  LYDIA PLANK

  I guess you get a lot of visitors like me,” Lydia sputtered. “Visits from people who had been adopted?”

  Mortified by how nervous she sounded, Lydia half waited to be laughed at.

  But instead of grinning, Marianne, the director of the Sweet Angels Home only looked at her with compassion. “We get our fair share of visitors,” she said gently. “Some of them are folks who want to know about their past.”

  As Lydia exhaled, Marianne leaned back in her chair, looking from Lydia to Walker. “Fact is, I’ve given up trying to guess why some people come back to learn about their birth parents and why some never do. Though, of course, some never see the need to visit here. Some people’s parents have shared all the details about their birth parents and the circumstances of their birth from an early age.”

  The woman’s last statement had a vague question at the end of it. As Walker shifted beside her, Lydia knew it was time to dive in. “I never knew I was adopted until recently. I’m afraid I know practically nothing about my birth parents.”

  The director took off her glasses and peered a little closer at Lydia. “From the beginning, our organization’s motto has been to make the relationship between birth parents and adoptive ones as strong as possible. Though some families don’t choose to share a lot of details, most have been committed to transparency.”

  Lydia wasn’t sure what transparency meant, but she knew that her circumstances were very different from what the woman was describing. “I’m afraid that hasn’t been the situation for me.”

  “Our center has always been committed to open adoption, when all parties are comfortable with continuing a relationship in some form, or comfortable with a relationship in the future. But twenty years ago, when your adoption went through, might have been before we made that commitment.”

  She was, it seemed, about to say more when another woman appeared at her office door. “I’m sorry, but may I borrow you for one moment?”

  The director got to her feet. “I’ll be right back. Please excuse me.”

  When they were alone, the tension in the room seemed to grow.

  Lydia felt uneasy. She wished with all her heart that her parents hadn’t kept their secret for so long. Things would have been much easier for everyone involved if they’d embraced the truth and been honest with her from the start.

  From the moment Walker had picked her up, she had felt agitated. Her parents, though trying to put on a brave front, looked devastated.

  And while Walker was trying to be supportive, Lydia felt a new barrier between them as well. Though she wasn’t brave enough to ask, she was concerned that he was regretting his offer to take her. What she was getting into was painful, difficult, and personal. Perhaps it was too much for a friendship as new as theirs?

  “I’m sorry I dragged you here,” she whispered. “It was unfair of me to make you do this.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad I came.”

  “Truly?”

  “Definitely. There’s no way I’d want you to go through this by yourself.” Taking her hand, he squeezed gently. “Just sit tight and keep being brave. Then we’ll get the answers we came for.”

  “You make it sound easy.”

  “It’s not. I know it’s not. But we don’t need to make it harder than it has to be.”

  “Walker, you are smarter than you look.”

  He chuckled, wiping away the tension in the room as effectively as if he had an eraser in hand. “I get that all the t
ime.”

  She was still smiling at him when Marianne returned.

  “Ah,” she said. “Lydia, you’ve got some color in your cheeks now. I’m glad about that. For a moment there, I thought you were going to faint on me.”

  “I do feel better,” Lydia admitted. “Though, I still am not sure what to do now.”

  “How about I go retrieve your file and then we’ll look at it together? Perhaps it will make some things clearer.”

  “That sounds great,” Walker said.

  Bracing her hands on her desk, she paused. “I feel like I should warn you that sometimes people find answers they weren’t ready for. Do you think you’re prepared for the details of your story?”

  Lydia glanced at Walker. His smile was gone, but his gaze made her feel just as secure. Without a word he was letting her know that he was going to stay by her side no matter what the outcome.

  No matter if she’d been born Amish or English . . . or even from another country. She was still going to mean the same to him.

  That acceptance was worth more than gold to her.

  “I’m sure this is what I want.”

  “Alrighty, then.” Marianne stood up and motioned for the two of them to follow her out of the room. “There’s a meeting room just down the stairs by the front door. There’s coffee and tea and water there, and usually a plate of cookies. Why don’t you two go there and relax for a few minutes? It will take me about a half an hour to get your records.”

  Another half hour? The wait was surely going to drive her crazy!

  Luckily, though, Walker seemed to have a far better presence of mind. “Thank you. We’ll be waiting.”

  Walker held her hand as they walked down the stairs, remaining silent, letting her take time to process what was happening.

  Knowing the truth, even if it wasn’t easy or helpful or good, was the only option. It was difficult to go forward in her life if she kept looking back.

  When they got to the sitting room, Walker walked right to the small table where a pair of Thermoses and a couple of rows of soft drinks and water bottles were waiting. “What do you want?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You sure?” He picked up a water for himself.