by Marta Perry
“That’s only natural, but they love you and your family. I’m sure they wish you well.” He studied her face. “Would it help to talk to an outsider, like me?”
“Ja, maybe.” But Seth wasn’t really an outsider, despite the fact that he wasn’t Amish now. He was still, at some level, the boy she’d grown up with, the boy who’d taken her home from her first singing. “It’s just so hard to get used to the idea of having sisters.” Suddenly the words that were on top of her thoughts spilled out. “I saw Susanna today.”
Seth’s eyebrows lifted. “That must have been difficult. How did she take the news?”
At least Seth assumed she had a right to share the news with her sisters. She shook her head. “I couldn’t tell her. I wanted to, that’s certain-sure. But her mamm is very ill, and it didn’t seem right to hand her another burden just now.”
He tilted his head, considering, making her wonder what he might have done in similar circumstances. “I can understand that, I guess. But at least maybe one day you’ll be able to tell her.”
“Ja, I hope so.” Lydia nearly bit her tongue. That almost sounded as if she were looking forward to the death of Susanna’s mother, and that wasn’t what she’d meant at all, was it?
Luckily, Seth’s thoughts didn’t seem to be heading in that direction. “What about the other one? Have you talked to her yet?”
She shook her head. “Chloe was taken by her Englisch grandmother when she was just a baby. That means she was brought up Englisch, and she probably doesn’t know anything about her real family, since she was so young.” Her throat tightened with the impossibility of it. “I can’t begin to think how I’d ever find her.”
“Then this must be your lucky day.” Seth grinned, the old, happy-go-lucky grin that had intrigued every girl who’d ever come in contact with him back in the old days. “Because you happen to have a friend who’s Englisch as well, and has just the talents you need to locate your sister.”
Lydia could only stare at him for a moment, untangling his meaning. “You can find Chloe?” Surely it couldn’t be as easy as he made it seem.
“Unless she’s gone into the Witness Protection Program, I can practically guarantee it.” Seeing she didn’t understand, he smiled again. “The Amish do a good job of living off the grid, but every Englisch person leaves a trail somewhere on the Internet. Just tell me what you know about her, and I’ll start searching.”
“I do know about the Internet,” she said, her voice tart. “You don’t need to sound as if I’m a dummy.”
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “You always were good at telling me off, Lydia. Maybe that’s why I liked you so much.”
She decided it was better not to respond to that comment. There had been a time when she’d thought she and Seth might end up together, but that had been long ago and very fleeting.
“I’d be wonderful glad if you can find anything out about Chloe. Her grandmother’s name was Margaret Wentworth, and she came from someplace around Philadelphia.”
He nodded, seeming to stow the name away in his memory. “How old would Chloe be now?”
She had to stop and figure. “About twenty-six, I’d say. And our mother’s name was Diane, if that helps any.”
“That’s enough to start with, anyway.” He glanced past her. “Looks as if your family is getting home, and I’m supposed to be running my mother and Jessie to the grocery store, so I’ll be off. I’ll let you know as soon as I find something.”
He sounded very confident. She watched him stride briskly off toward the Miller house before turning away. But then, Seth had always been confident of what he wanted for himself, regardless of how much it hurt the people who loved him.
* * *
Adam’s steps slowed as his glance swept the orchard and landed on Seth Miller, walking back toward his mamm’s house while Lydia looked after him. As far as Adam was concerned, he already had enough weight resting on his shoulders today. He didn’t want to contend with Seth, as well.
Seth’s quick, confident stride carried him out of sight in another moment, but not, unfortunately, out of Adam’s mind. There was not much of the Amish boy he’d been left in the Englischer Seth was now. But even when he’d worn broadfall trousers and had his hair cut in his mother’s kitchen, Seth had managed to attract the attention of the girls and the envy of the other boys. Adam had never felt able to measure up.
Lydia was walking toward him now, raising her hand to wave. He waved back, trying to put a little energy into the movement. The last thing he wanted was to get Lydia worrying about him and his job at a time like this.
And it was just plain stupid to let his mind travel back to that first singing they’d gone to when they were barely sixteen. He’d sneaked glances at Lydia, sitting on the opposite side of the long table, and wondered if she would ever look his way. And when they’d taken a break for refreshments, he’d had to force his feet to move toward her, rehearsing in his mind the words he’d use when he asked if he could take her home.
But he’d taken so long getting up the courage that he’d reached Lydia just in time to hear Seth asking the same thing, and Lydia saying yes to Seth, not to him. The image of Seth helping her up into his buggy was one he’d never gotten out of his head.
“Adam, you’re home early.” Lydia reached him, smiling.
“Ja, the boss gave us our money and said there was no point starting something else.” He jerked his head in the direction of the Miller place. “What was he doing here?”
Lydia’s smile faded, replaced by a wary expression. “Seth? He came over with a message from his mother, asking if she can do anything.” Fine lines marred Lydia’s smooth forehead. “Everybody knows, I guess. They’re all talking.” Her lips trembled, and she pressed them together.
Adam ought to be ashamed, letting himself think of that old jealousy when Lydia was hurting. He touched her arm, wanting to ease the pain. “They mean it kindly, even when they do talk. And Emma Miller is a gut woman.”
“Ja, ja, she is. I should go over and see her. I haven’t been there in days.”
That was his Lydia, always thinking of others. “Emma would like a visit from you, that’s for sure.” He pushed himself to bring up the subject he’d rather she forgot. “I guess she could talk to you about when you were little. Emma would have been your mamm’s closest neighbor, ain’t so?”
Lydia nodded. “That’s true.” She seemed to make an effort to smile. “Well, enough about me. How was your last day?”
Now it was his turn to make the effort to look pleasant, no matter how he felt. “Not bad. Mr. Owens was real sorry he had to let us go, and he came around and talked to each one. He said if the orders pick up again, he’ll be wanting to call us back to work.”
“That’s gut news, ain’t so?” Lydia linked her arm with his as they walked toward the house. “Maybe he’ll be calling you back soon.”
He smiled and nodded, because he didn’t want Lydia to worry. But it seemed unlikely that Mr. Owens would get up to a full crew anytime in the foreseeable future. When money was tight, folks didn’t buy vacation trailers. That only made sense.
There were fewer jobs all over, something he hadn’t expected even a couple of years ago. He’d been asking around, and no one seemed to know of anyone who was hiring.
Lydia was staring at him, her eyes questioning. “What is it, Adam? Are you worried about finding something else?”
“No, no, I’m not thinking that at all,” he said hastily.
The trouble with hiding your feelings from Lydia was that she always seemed to sense them without your telling her. He’d need to divert her attention.
“You didn’t tell me about your trip to Oyersburg. How was it? Did you see Susanna?” He probably should say your sister but the words still seemed odd to him.
“Ja, I saw her.” Her face softened, and she seemed to be gazing someplace far away. “Ach, Adam, I knew the minute I saw her that she’s my sister. She has such a sweet face and a gentle
way about her.” Lydia’s expression clouded. “She limps, though, and I was afraid her leg was paining her. It’s never been right since the accident. I wanted so much . . .”
She let that thought trail off, but he knew where it had been headed.
“You wanted to tell her.” He clasped her arm firmly. “Lydia, you didn’t, did you?”
Lydia shook her head, a tear spilling over onto her cheek. “I longed to. But she had to hurry off to check on her mother. When she’d gone, I talked with her partner in the shop. She told me how sick Susanna’s mamm is, and how Susanna is her only comfort in her last days. I couldn’t disrupt her life at a time like this, could I?”
“No, it’s certain-sure you couldn’t,” he said, relieved. “You did the right thing in keeping silent.” He put his arm around her, hugging her close to his side. “Maybe, someday, you’ll be free to tell her.”
“Ja.” She rubbed her head against his shoulder. “Ja, I will, won’t I?”
“That’s right.” At least this sister was Amish, and not living too far away. From the sounds of it, Susanna would be needing support in the future, and there was nothing Lydia liked better than helping someone. “You can look forward to that day, even if you’ll never be able to see the youngest one.”
Lydia pulled back, her eyes wide as she stared at him. “Why do you say that?”
“Ach, Lydia, you must think about it.” Why couldn’t she accept the truth? “If even the bishop doesn’t know how to find the woman who took the little one, it’s best to resign yourself to God’s will.”
“It’s true I don’t know how to look for her, but Seth says that he does.” She clasped Adam’s arm with both hands, her smile chasing away the sorrow. “He says it won’t be hard at all to find her. He’s going to start searching right away, using the Internet.”
“Seth.” Adam couldn’t help it if he sounded disapproving. Why did Seth have to push his way in where he wasn’t wanted? “I don’t think it’s a gut idea to involve an outsider in family matters.”
That was not the reaction Lydia expected from him—he could see that in her face.
“Seth isn’t an outsider. We’ve known him since we were kinder. We went to school together. Ja, he’s Englisch now, but that’s what makes him the ideal person to help me find Chloe. Don’t you see? Maybe it’s God’s will that Seth finds her for me.”
“I don’t want—” Adam stopped, knowing the words he was about to say were unwise. Lydia was so excited at the idea of finding her sister that he didn’t have the heart to throw cold water on the scheme, even though he hated the idea of having Seth involved with his family’s trouble.
“Look, here are the boys.” Lydia waved, her attention distracted by the sight of Daniel and David running toward them.
Adam made an effort to be sensible. He couldn’t keep Lydia from an opportunity to find her baby sister just because he was jealous of Seth.
Besides, chances were it would come to nothing. Not even Seth could make bricks out of straw.
The boys came rushing into their arms, both of them talking a mile a minute. Adam stood with his arms around his family, smiling with the pure joy of it.
So what if Seth had driven Lydia home from her first singing? In the end, she had turned to him, and the end was what counted.
* * *
Seth paused for a moment on Adam and Lydia’s back porch that evening. Lydia, he was sure, would welcome the news he’d brought. As for Adam—well, it wasn’t hard to read Adam’s attitude. Adam hadn’t exchanged more than a few sentences with Seth since his return to Pleasant Valley months ago, despite the fact that Seth’s mother was Adam and Lydia’s nearest neighbor and close friend.
Seth tapped lightly on the screen door. He hadn’t expected to be greeted with open arms by his old community. Even though he wasn’t under the bann, since he’d left before being baptized into the church, the Leit, the term the Amish used to refer to themselves, still looked warily at a former Amish who had achieved what they’d consider worldly success. As for what success actually meant—
The door swung open. Two small faces tilted up to him, expressions questioning. Seth couldn’t help but smile. No matter how much they changed later, young Amish boys all seemed to look the same, with their fair hair, light eyes, black pants with suspenders crossing their shoulders, and usually, at this time of year, bare feet.
“You’re Daniel and David, right?” His Pennsylvania Dutch dialect was a bit rusty, but it had improved rapidly now that he was hearing so much of it. “I’m Seth Miller. Are your mammi and daad here?”
Before the kids could respond, the door swung wider, and Adam seemed to fill the opening, almost as if he were on guard.
“Seth.” He nodded in greeting and gave the boys a gentle push. “Time you boys were getting to your chores, ja?”
“Ja, Daadi.” The older boy, Daniel, grabbed his brother’s arm and tugged. The little one seemed to hang back for a moment, his gaze fixed on Seth, his blue eyes round. Then they both scurried across the porch and raced toward the barn.
“I hope I didn’t interrupt your supper.” Seth accepted the tacit invitation of the door Adam held open and walked into the kitchen.
“No, no, we’re finished.” Lydia came toward him, drying her hands on a dish towel. “Is it . . . you haven’t found something already, have you?” Her expression was torn between hope and fear, while Adam just looked disapproving.
Seth decided he’d have to be a complete idiot not to sense the tension in the room. There was more going on here than he’d anticipated with his possibly rash offer. But it was too late to reconsider now.
“Actually, the search was even easier than I expected. So yes, I have news.”
Lydia’s face lit. “Ach, what am I thinking, to keep you standing here? Sit down, I’ll get you coffee, and you can tell us all about it.”
She sent a glance toward Adam that Seth couldn’t quite interpret, except to know that they were not entirely in harmony, either about finding Lydia’s sister or perhaps about accepting his help.
Too late now, he told himself again, and sat down at the long pine table. “Coffee sounds fine.” It was a good thing he’d said yes, since Lydia was already setting mugs on the table and pouring.
“Not for me, denke,” Adam said, positioning himself against the pine cabinets, hands braced behind him against the countertop.
Maybe he should have been able to predict it. Adam wasn’t ready to sit at table with him.
Seth stirred sugar into his coffee. “As I told you, the Internet has made it fairly easy to find anyone. Well, anyone Englisch, at least. I assumed Chloe’s grandmother would have given the child her last name, so I just had to search for a Chloe Wentworth in the greater Philadelphia area, and there she was. I double-checked the parents’ names to be sure I had the right one, of course.”
He opened the manila envelope he’d brought with him and pulled out the best of the photos he’d found online. “Your sister.”
Lydia grabbed the picture and pulled it to her, earning a disapproving sound from her husband. She flashed him an annoyed look.
“Chloe was brought up Englisch,” she pointed out. “Naturally there would be photographs of her.”
He’d printed out a color photo that showed Chloe, head tilted slightly to one side, green eyes seeming to smile at the camera. She had the same warm, peachy complexion Lydia did, he realized, but her hair was a deeper brown. Reddish tones showed in the photo, and Chloe’s hair was worn in a loose style that just brushed her slim shoulders. In the photo she looked poised, polished, and sophisticated, none of which were terms one applied to an Amish woman.
“She is beautiful,” Lydia murmured, touching the pictured face with her fingertips.
Adam, curiosity apparently overcoming his reluctance, moved behind her. Lydia looked up at him, something pleading in her gaze.
“Ja,” he said, his voice gruff. “She has a look of you about her, ain’t so?” He touched Lydia’s should
er gently, and they seemed to communicate without words, making Seth feel like an outsider.
Which he was, he reminded himself. He pulled a printout from the envelope.
“Anyway, she apparently still lives with her grandmother in the family home. She attended school and college in Philadelphia.”
“She’s not married?” Lydia asked.
“No, and I couldn’t find any engagement announcement, so I’m guessing she’s not about to be.” Chloe had attended exclusive private schools, he’d noticed, but he didn’t bother saying, knowing that fact would mean little to Lydia and Adam. “She’s currently working at a small museum in Philadelphia that specializes in Pennsylvania German Culture.”
“A museum?” Lydia couldn’t seem to take her gaze from the photo. “What does she do there?”
“According to the museum website, she’s an assistant curator, working on folk art and furniture.” He shrugged. “Maybe that’s her Amish heritage coming out, even if she doesn’t know about it.”
Lydia looked stricken. “You think she doesn’t know about her parents being Amish?”
He seemed to have put his foot in it, and Adam was giving him a warning glare.
“I don’t really have any idea. But since she’s never been in touch . . .”
He let that trail off, seeing the pitfall he’d ignored in his eagerness to do something for Lydia in return for her kindness to his mother. Lydia could end up getting hurt by this unknown sister. He sucked in a breath, trying to see a way out.
“I have her address,” he said. “You could write to her, if you wanted.”
“Write?” Lydia’s voice rose. “I don’t want to write to her. I want to see her. I must go to Philadelphia—”
“No.” Adam’s shocked voice cut across hers. “You cannot do such a thing. To go halfway across the state to a city you don’t know . . . Lydia, this is impossible. It was one thing to go to Oyersburg, but you cannot go off to Philadelphia.”
“I have to.” Lydia stood, hands braced on the table, tears sparkling in her eyes. “If Chloe doesn’t know about her parents and her sisters, I have to tell her. I have to see her.”
