Lydia's Hope Page 27

  “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.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Relieved 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.”