“Yah, of course, the girls and I have plenty. And I’ll find a pair of slippers.”
“Thanks, but I still don’t feel right about this. Please let me pay you for the night.”
“I wouldn’t accept it, so don’t even try. After all, we seem to be relatives.”
Now was my chance to speak to her. “Can you think of anyone who had a child out of wedlock about twenty-eight years ago?”
“If they did, I can’t imagine them putting the baby up for adoption. There are plenty of families who would take the child in. I would have, myself. An Amish family can never be too large.”
“How big is yours?”
“Besides my husband and our children, I have many cousins, aunts, and uncles. Both my parents are alive and live with my eldest Bruder. My sister has no children, and her husband passed away soon after they wed. No cousins for my girls at her house. Surely I would’ve heard of an unmarried woman in such a quandary.” She paused and rubbed her chin in thought. “Gossip is a sin, but it’s hard to contain. We may not have telephones in the house, but news travels through the Amish community like a flock of chattering starlings.”
I looked into her lovely face, devoid of makeup, and thought we could indeed be related. Same sandy gold hair, although I saw gray streaks peeking out of her head covering. Same blue eyes.
But why should I believe her? My own parents had lied all my life. I recalled the look of derision on Dad’s face when my sister, Trish, and I told him about the DNA tests. Our parents had pounded into us the importance of honesty, yet Mom and Dad were blatant liars.
An idea took root in the back of my mind. Maybe Naomi was my mother. Maybe as a teen she’d given birth to me—not out of the realm of possibilities. If so, she didn’t seem happy to reclaim me, which made me think Silas was not my father. Or had Naomi had an affair and ended up pregnant? Although that didn’t make sense either, because she had five children. Certainly someone would have noticed.
I took in her attire: the plainest of plain coffee-brown dress and a black apron. Would someone be able to hide a pregnancy under that copious fabric?
As if reading my mind, she said, “I wish I could say you were mine.” Her kindness made me feel as if I were melting into a puddle. “I’d be delighted with a daughter like you.” She dabbed the corners of her eyes. “Well, we know someone who does know the truth: the Lord Almighty. He will reveal it when He’s ready.”
Not that I didn’t believe in God entirely, but He’d never spoken to me or made a whit of difference in my life. I chided myself for the hundreds of prayers I’d given up to heaven when most likely no one was listening. Or else I wouldn’t be in this crazy, confusing mess.
Bubbles of laughter erupted from the kitchen; the clattering of dishes and flatware drifted up the stairs.
“The girls are just about done cleaning up,” she said. “Come in and see your room, and then we’ll join them.”
“Are you sure I can’t pay you?”
“Your room and meals will be our Christmas gift to you. I insist.”
“I feel terrible for interrupting your Christmas. I was rude to just show up out of the blue.”
“When Christ was born, there were many interruptions.” Her lips formed a concerned smile. “Don’t worry about us. It’s you I worry about—a lost lamb. But the Father will leave His flock and come looking for you.”
I realized she was trying to be kind, yet her words brought me no solace. I was just as lost as when I arrived. But at least I had a good meal in my belly. “Did I thank you for your delicious supper?”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“I’m afraid Silas wasn’t happy to have me there.”
“He’s a good man, but sometimes at the end of the day . . . well, he’s been up working since before dawn. We have three dozen Holsteins, and he was racing around trying to salvage anything left out in the snow. Plus, as a minister, he has a second non-paying full-time job.”
What? I must have misunderstood her. “I assume he’ll take Christmas morning off.”
“Our cows need milking every day of the year, not to mention feeding. On a farm there is no day off.”
She pushed down on the single bed against the wall. I heard springs creaking. “I’m afraid this mattress may be lumpy.”
I admired the meticulously sewn quilt with its geometric shapes of bold colors. “This bed looks a lot more comfortable than my car.” A branch flipped against the side of the house; I was thankful to be out of the storm. “This room will be perfect. You’re very kind to bring in a stranger.”
“We would do this for anyone in need. Let’s go back to the kitchen and have dessert.”
On our return through the living room, I noticed Silas sitting in an easy chair reading a magazine. He didn’t look up. Fair enough. The man must be exhausted. Naomi and I reentered the kitchen, and much to my surprise my suitcase sat near the back door.
“Isaac brought it in.” Nancy’s exuberant voice revealed her pleasure at seeing him.
Isaac sat at the table with a cup of coffee and a wedge of pumpkin pie. “I should have thought to bring the suitcase in when I first came.” I couldn’t read his expression. Was he annoyed or happy to be here? The latter, no doubt. Two lovely sisters both pouring on all the attention, rather than washing the dishes, which were scraped and stacked in the sink, soaking.
Naomi arched a brow. “You’re always welcome here, Isaac, but these dishes need washing, girls.”
“We were just about to, Mamm. Honest.” Nancy poured more coffee
