Leah’s shrug was lopsided as she spooned cheese sauce over the top of her haystack. “I should’ve spoken up sooner. I just didn’t know how.”
Jude nodded. “I know the feeling. I don’t know how any of this blew up in our faces—and I don’t know how we’re going to patch our family back together now that Adeline and Alice have ripped such a hole in it.”
Leah smiled. She already looked weary, and she still had to get through a tough day with the kids. “We’ll have to trust that God knows the answers, and have the patience to recognize them—to grab on to them—when He brings us the help we need.”
How could she speak with such simple confidence, after the way his girls had scorned her? Jude grasped her hand and kissed it. “You’re right, Leah. Let’s hope God provides some gut ideas sooner rather than later,” he said. “Denki for your faith, and for sticking with me. I love you.”
* * *
As Leah stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes, she watched Jude drive his rig down the lane toward the road. The sounds of footsteps above her head suggested that the girls were walking back and forth on the creaky wooden floor of their bedroom. Were they packing bags to leave? Would they make good on their threat to go elsewhere because they were angry with Jude for not being their birth father?
They have no idea what they’d be getting themselves into, Lord, she prayed as she stacked rinsed plates in the dish drainer. Alice and Adeline might believe the English world will give them a fresh start—the independence they crave—but they’ve led a sheltered life. Temptation and trouble lurk around every corner for Amish girls seeking to escape the rules that preserve their security.
The sudden silence above her made Leah look toward the mudroom. Through the window, she spotted Alice and Adeline clambering down the big maple tree to the ground, as though they’d done it dozens of times. Despite the frosty morning, they were dressed only in tight jeans, sneakers, and lightweight hooded sweatshirts. They ran toward the barn without a backward glance, their long reddish-brown hair billowing loose behind them in the breeze.
At least they don’t have suitcases. They don’t plan to be gone long.
For a moment, Leah wanted to follow them—wanted to warn them or plead with them to reconsider their attitude toward their dat. They might have heard Jude’s words through the wall, but they obviously hadn’t caught on to the fact that their mother had been the deceptive one while their dat had followed the honorable course and raised another man’s kids as his own.
Leah remained at the sink with her hands in the soapy dishwater, however. Alice and Adeline needed time to let off some steam, and the last person they would listen to was the stepmother who’d intruded upon their family life—the woman their dat had entrusted with a truth they weren’t ready to hear yet felt entitled to know. A few minutes later, the girls’ open buggy was heading toward the road—and their mare, Minnie, was racing down the lane as though something had spooked her.
We’ve all been spooked, Leah realized. This morning’s episode is all about fear.
She pulled the stopper from the drain and dried her hands on a towel. As Leah passed through the front room, she saw the wooden trucks and trains Stevie had been playing with before breakfast, but the boy was nowhere in sight. Climbing the stairs, Leah prayed for words that would comfort the poor child who’d been so upset by his sisters’ cruel words. The door to the twins’ room was closed, but Leah grabbed the knob, hoping a peek inside would give her a clue about where they’d gone.
The door didn’t budge.
Leah frowned. To her knowledge, none of the house’s doors locked—and the knob turned in her hand. She smiled wryly. The girls had placed a heavy piece of furniture—probably their dresser—against the door so she wouldn’t snoop in their absence. They figured she wouldn’t have the gumption to shove the door open, and then replace the dresser and shimmy down the tree outside their window, so they wouldn’t know she’d entered their bedroom.
Puh! You girls have nothing on me when it comes to climbing trees or trellises—or even ropes, Leah thought as she continued down the hall. As a girl, she’d always had the job of climbing into the apple and walnut trees to pick the highest fruit, or to shake the branches so the walnuts fell to the ground for her dat to pick up. She’d prided herself on being able to climb a rope hand-over-hand, too, after watching the neighbor boys do it.
Leah set aside her memories of those simple childhood pleasures, however, as she approached the room across the hall. The door was ajar, and as she heard Stevie crying, her heart went out to him.
“Mama . . . Mamaaa,” he bleated like a lost lamb. He repeated the name again and again, as though his plaintive chant would bring his mother back to comfort him.
Leah stepped into the room and hesitated. Stevie was curled into a small ball on his twin bed, rocking himself as he lay facing the wall. “Stevie, I’m sorry you’re so sad,” she said softly. “I’m sorry your sisters were being so mean at the table.”
The boy stiffened. “Mama. I want my mamm,” he said in a quavering voice.
Leah sighed. She’d lived here for three months, yet Jude’s son had shown no sign of accepting her as his new parent. Most likely the twins had filled his imagination with scary lies about her.
But you’re the adult; you have to keep trying, she reminded herself as she approached his bedside. She couldn’t imagine the pain and loneliness this little boy had been dealing with since his mother had died.
Leah stopped beside
