A Home for Lydia (The Pebble Creek Amish Series)

by Chapman, Vannetta

  Maybe it was because they hadn’t been married very long. She thought that could mean she would have another brother or sister soon, but she wasn’t sure. She needed to ask more questions about exactly how that happened. She kept meaning to, but then she would become distracted by something else.

  She glanced down again at the picture she was drawing and ran her finger along the edge of the page.

  “Whatcha working on Gracie?”

  “A picture.”

  “Huh.” Gabe sat down beside her. “Don’t usually see you drawing before school.”

  “Grace said she had a dream about this picture. Said this one was bothering her, so she wanted to get up early and finish it.” Miriam brought the cereal to the table and set out brown sugar and raisins along with the bowls.

  But she didn’t sit down. Instead, she stood behind Grace’s chair, studying the drawing that Gabe and Grace were both looking at.

  Grace had done her best to put everything on the page that had disturbed her, but she wasn’t sure she had caught it all. She wasn’t sure how to put into words the dream she couldn’t quite remember—it danced and teased at the edge of her memory.

  But Grace was focused on the picture as a whole, not the smaller details. The details to her were like stitches in a quilt…she was concerned about getting the overall scene correct, and she wasn’t sure she had.

  It was her dat who placed his finger on the important detail. He set his kaffi mug down, leaned forward, and tapped the sheet. “Grace, who is this person in the woods?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “You drew this on Saturday?”

  “Ya. When we were there helping. After I’d done the drawing Aaron chose for the postcard. I’d run off to watch the river, to look for flying squirrels…and that was when the light and the shadows in the woods caught my attention. I decided to draw one more scene, but I didn’t like this one. It was too…”

  “Spooky?” Miriam asked.

  “I guess.”

  “Could this be Aaron?” Gabe now pulled the drawing in front of him and studied it more closely.

  “Nein,” Miriam said. “I walked up as soon as Grace skipped away. They were talking about how much they liked the porch drawing, and then Aaron went back to work on the shed. He continued working on it until we went home.”

  “Seth?” Gabe asked.

  “He left right after Grace went down to the river,” Miriam said softly. “We were talking about how the drawing of the porch would work nicely for the postcard. He said he needed to be home to finish his chores.”

  Grace again leaned forward and touched the drawing. “For a few minutes I walked along the path Aaron is making. It runs next to the river. This person I saw was peering out from the woods. Kind of watching us.”

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone, Grace?” Miriam reached for Rachel, who had begun to fuss.

  “I was going to, but then he disappeared.”

  She felt more than saw her parents exchange a look of concern. Instead of frightening her, it made her feel better. Maybe she wasn’t narrisch after all. Maybe her dream had been a warning.

  “Can you describe him, Grace?” Gabe handed the tablet back. “All I can tell from this is that it was an Amish male. Could have been a boy or a man.”

  “I couldn’t tell much, either. He didn’t have a beard…I don’t think. But he was too far in the woods to see much more. I don’t even know if he was Amish. I didn’t see him that well. That’s why you only see his eyes looking out from the trees.”

  “Okay. Probably it’s nothing, but we should let Aaron know that he might have someone watching the cabins. I’ll drive over there after breakfast. Do you mind if I take your tablet?”

  Grace shook her head. She’d actually be happy to tear that picture out. She didn’t want it anymore. Breakfast tasted gut now that she’d shared her worries with her family. Maybe the day would go better than her dream seemed to suggest.

  Chapter 29

  Lydia knew, positively knew, what she would find when she ran up the steps of the office. Her heart was thundering in her chest, and her palms were sweaty. It never occurred to her that whoever had done this thing might still be there.

  When she first saw the chaos and emptiness, she wanted to sit down and weep. Shock, followed quickly by anger, surged through her heart. As her gaze swept the room, she longed to pick up the few items that were left and hurl them through the window. But she didn’t. Instead she walked back out the door and moved slowly toward the Plain Shop, which had been open less than a week.

  Clara caught up to her before she’d covered half the distance.

  “Lydia, what is it? Why was the door open? What did you see?”

  Instead of answering, Lydia kept walking. Like the pulling off of a Band-Aid, she wanted to be done with it. When they stepped inside, they were holding hands the way they had done as small girls, for somewhere along those last few yards Clara had gripped her hand tightly and apparently had no intention of letting go.

  Clara cried out, and in that moment, Lydia saw that nearly all the things they had stocked in the shop were gone…taken.

  Just like in the office.

  “Why did they leave the rocking chairs?” Clara whispered.

  “Probably too heavy or too bulky to steal.” Lydia pulled her hand from her sister’s and walked over to the shelves of canned food, which also remained. “And I suppose there isn’t a quick market for vegetables or fruit.”

  She sat down in one of the rockers, cradling a jar of preserved peaches in her lap. Suddenly she was tired, extremely tired. Through the window of the little shop she could see that the morning’s light had reached Pebble Creek, but it didn’t bring her the hope it usually did.

  Too much was wrong. Too much work had been stripped away from them.

  “This is not right,” Clara declared, her hands on her hips. “We can’t…can’t stand here and do nothing!”

  She turned and stormed out of the shop.

  When Lydia saw her sister stomp off, heading down the path toward the creek, she realized Clara’s temper might have the upper hand over her good sense. She set the jar of peaches on the floor next to the chair and took off after her.

  “Clara, where are you going? What are you doing?”

  “I’m looking for the culprit. What do you think I’m doing?”

  “You can’t go stomping through the woods—”

  Clara disappeared around the bend down by the water, and Lydia had to jog to keep up with her. “Come back here!”

  Running down the path, she made the curve and nearly bumped into her sister. Clara had stopped where the river turned, stopped and was standing frozen with her hand at her neck. Lydia practically plowed right over her like the children running bases when they played baseball behind the schoolhouse. She reached out to stop herself, put both hands in front of her, and stumbled into Clara. They managed to stay standing as they watched the everyday miracle in front of them.

  A doe and two spotted fawns stood lapping at the clear running water of the creek. The doe eyed them as she drank, but she didn’t run. One of the fawns stepped closer to the doe, nudged her, and began nursing. The doe allowed it for a moment, and then she walked away, slowly at first, before loping into the woods. The fawns followed closely behind, running in a lopsided fashion.

  “They were beautiful.” Clara’s voice filled with wonder. She didn’t move but stared after the deer, as if they might reappear.

  “Ya, they were.”

  Clara shook her head as she turned and allowed her sister to place her arms around her. How long had it been since they had hugged? They spent all of their time arguing and struggling against each other.

  “Why would anyone steal all of our things, Lydia? I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t either, but there’s one thing I know for sure.”

  Clara glanced up at her, wiping at the tears that had escaped down her cheeks.

  “In the next thirty minutes
we’re going to have twelve hungry families, regardless of the burglary. We need to head over and start breakfast.”

  “Ya. I suppose you’re right.”

  They walked back toward the cabins at a more measured pace.

  “I wonder if whoever did this knew Aaron was gone last night.”

  “Maybe.” Lydia had been thinking the same thing. “They must have worked quietly for the guests not to have heard them.”

  “The office and the shop are set to the side a little. They’re not exactly located in the middle of the cabins.”

  “True.”

  “If whoever did this came in the middle of the night, while everyone was sleeping—”

  Lydia stopped in the path and tugged on her sister’s sleeve. “What were you going to do if you found the burglar in the woods?”

  “I don’t know. Demand he gives us our stuff back?”

  “Just walk up to him and—”

  “I might. Walk up and say, ‘Hand it over. That isn’t yours!’”

  “Okay. Well, promise me you won’t go alone to confront burglars anymore.”

  Clara straightened her apron before looking up with a smile. “I promise.”

  By the time Clara had taken care of Tin Star, Lydia had used the phone in the office to call the police and report the burglary. After that she started preparing breakfast. The police dispatcher had told her Officer Tate would be out along with a crime tech, who would need to dust for fingerprints, so she prepared breakfast outside.

  Not counting the break-in, it was a beautiful May morning. The picnic tables Aaron and Seth had made provided plenty of eating space under the trees. All that was left was to make kaffi and pour it into thermoses, which she kept for emergencies. The three cinnamon cakes she’d made the night before were fine served unheated. It was a good thing Aaron was paying her for the baked goods she brought—soon she’d need her sisters Martha and Amanda to help with the extra baking. She had plenty of fruit to put out. They also had milk, juice, and cold cereal. It would have to do for an impromptu breakfast picnic.

  Her heart ached over the work Aaron had done, over his loss—after all, the success or failure of the cabins was ultimately most important to him and his aenti Elizabeth. Lydia realized she was only an employee, and one part of her knew she could find a job someplace else. But for Aaron—success here meant he could return home.

  She focused on making customers happy and assuring them all was well as they came to breakfast under the trees.

  And that’s where Aaron found her when he arrived half an hour later with Seth. By then he’d already heard about the break-in. The Amish grapevine was alive and well in Pebble Creek. The police had called a neighbor, who had stopped by David’s and alerted Aaron.

  And Aaron’s response surprised Lydia. He made her smile for the first time all day. Even though she was surrounded by Englisch moms and dads and children, she felt some of the heaviness in her heart lift. In spite of the fact that two police officers were traipsing dirt through her office, she forgot the extra work.

  Aaron’s response the moment he arrived wiped all of those concerns away.

  His first matter of business made her heart sing like the birds in the trees.

  He didn’t go to the office.

  He didn’t hurry to the shop to see how much merchandise was missing.

  He walked through the growing crowd of guests, walked past Clara, and walked straight up to her. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he focused completely on her.

  “Are you okay, Lydia?”

  “Ya, of course.”

  “You weren’t here when—”

  “No.”

  “I was worried that maybe…” He never finished the sentence, but he did touch her face, look deeply in her eyes, and it seemed as though everyone else disappeared and it was only the two of them standing near the banks of Pebble Creek.

  It didn’t last long.

  Soon one of the children began crying, and a guest asked for more juice. Lydia heard Clara complaining that she couldn’t possibly work if she had to write her postcards outside where the bugs kept landing on her supplies. Seth was grumbling as he pulled the mower from the shed and moved to cut the grass that had begun growing out by the road. He had to stop when the officers told him he could be destroying evidence. Either way that boy was unhappy.

  Every single one of those sounds joined together like the voices singing a hymn at church meeting—they blended together almost in harmony.

  All of it gave her the impression that somehow things would return to normal, but the memory of Aaron’s concern, that gave her hope that perhaps her dreams could come true.

  Aaron had risen early at David’s house. It would have been difficult not to, what with the five children and the arguing that continued between David and Seth. He thought it might have eased some with the boy working at the cabins, but apparently it hadn’t.

  Anna, David’s wife, was in her last month of pregnancy and had her hands full with the other children and maintaining the house. When the arguing carried into the kitchen, she glanced at Aaron, shrugged, and asked him if he wanted cream with his kaffi.

  David and Seth had carried their disagreement back outside.

  While Anna was reaching for the cream out of the ice box, she’d stopped to rub at her lower back, closing her eyes and blowing out slowly.

  Aaron had thanked Anna and told her he’d help with the chores in the barn. The three of them—Aaron, David, and Seth were walking back toward the house when David’s neighbor hurried over across the field. He’d heard from his Englisch neighbor that there had been a break-in at the cabins. Apparently, the Englisch neighbor’s wife was the dispatcher at the police station. She’d taken the call from Lydia. A slight adjustment to the Amish grapevine, but it worked nonetheless.

  It wasn’t the fact that there had been a burglary that caused Aaron’s stomach to clench tighter than a man’s hand around a hammer. Nor was it the thought of all the merchandise they might have lost. David’s neighbor was very clear about who had made the call. It had been Lydia. She had been the first on the scene—the one to make the discovery.

  No one had been arrested, but had she been hurt?

  Had the burglar or burglars seen her?

  Seth and David’s bickering stopped as quickly as it had started, though the boy appeared as pale as Aaron felt. “I’ll hitch up the buggy now,” he said, and without waiting for an answer he was gone.

  “Do you want me to go with you?” David asked.

  “Nein. Stay with Anna. I believe she might be having pains. She could need you to be here to fetch the midwife.”

  “She had pains twice this week already—”

  “And this time it could be the real thing.” Aaron scrubbed his face with both hands. “When I was in the kitchen with her just now she had a spell, and it took me back. My mamm did the same thing with my youngest bruder. She had the same look on her face, the same way of closing her eyes and counting slowly. When she finally did go into labor, he was born within an hour. Stay here, David.”

  Moments later Seth had driven the buggy up beside him and they were on their way to the cabins. Aaron realized later that he remembered nothing of the ride, only that he was aggravated with Seth for driving so slowly. When he mentioned it to him, the boy only glowered—much like the look he often threw at his dat—and urged the horse into a faster trot.

  Aaron was out of the buggy before they had completely stopped it in the parking lot, which was full by the time they had reached it. The Englischers’ cars all belonged to the guests, and two police cars from the Cashton Police Department were in the lot as well.

  He didn’t go to the office, though he could see that officers were working inside.

  He didn’t go to the shop to see how much merchandise was missing.

  He walked to the picnic tables, where the girls were serving breakfast. Aaron walked through the small crowd of guests, walked past Clara, and walked straight up to Lydia. H
e put his hands on her shoulders, and stared into her beautiful eyes.

  Seeing her there, working efficiently as she did every morning, his heart finally slowed in its wild hammering, but he’d come this far at a madcap pace. No stopping now until he was sure. “Are you okay, Lydia?”

  “Ya, of course.”

  “You weren’t here when—”

  “No.”

  “I was worried that maybe…” He never finished the sentence, but he did touch her face. Her skin was even softer than he’d imagined. Her eyes widened in surprise, and he felt a small amount of guilt that he’d been avoiding her lately. For the briefest of moments, it seemed as though the small crowd of guests vanished. He could imagine what it would be like, just the two of them standing along the banks of Pebble Creek.

  It didn’t last long.

  Soon a child began crying—he wanted chocolate milk instead of plain. Another guest asked for more juice. Clara complained about the bugs landing on her stack of postcards. Even Seth grumbled in his normal fashion as he first pulled the lawn mower out, but he froze in place when an officer called out to him. Aaron glanced up and caught Seth as he asked no one in particular if he was expected to work without eating breakfast now—but there was something else in the lad’s eyes, some new worry. He needed to talk to the boy privately.

  The entire group under the trees brought relief to Aaron’s heart. The cabins continued to run smoothly. Merchandise could be replaced—people couldn’t.

  He’d speak with Seth in a moment.

  First, he needed to sit and pull in a few deep breaths and watch Lydia as she moved among their guests, occasionally throwing him a questioning glance.

  What if she had been there when the burglar had ransacked the buildings? What if she had been hurt? What would he have done?

  The questions circled and collided in his mind so that he couldn’t possibly join in the breakfast that she had set out so prettily under the trees on the picnic tables they had only recently finished. Their guests were talking among themselves about the break-in, but Aaron assured them that everything was under control.