A Home for Lydia (The Pebble Creek Amish Series) (39 page)

“Hello, Sylvia.”

“Miriam. Gabe.” Miss Bena didn’t smile, but she did stop. It would have been impolite to brush past them. She seemed to realize that at least, though she appeared to be at something of a loss as to what to say next.

“Nice day to visit the library,” Gabe offered.

“Indeed. It’s
gut
to see you, Grace.”

Grace nodded and stepped closer to her
mamm
.

“Well,
gut
day to you.” Miss Bena turned to walk into the library and had opened the door when Miriam called out to her.

“Sylvia, would you like to come to dinner Sunday afternoon?”

Miss Bena’s features froze, reminding Gabe so much of a frightened rabbit that he almost laughed out loud.

He didn’t laugh, though, because another part of him remembered when he’d first come to Wisconsin. He’d built walls around his life, tall sturdy walls. He had been so afraid someone might breech them, that they might find a way into the safe, private life he’d built for himself and Grace. He would often search for ways to avoid such dinners.

Was Sylvia Bena doing the same?

Miriam pushed on. “My mother is so much better. We’re having a small celebration. We’d be pleased if you’d join us.”

“We have a nest of birds down by the creek. Ones I haven’t been able to identify.” It was the first Grace had spoken since her teacher had walked up. “If you came, maybe you could help me. I’ve looked in the books, but I still haven’t been able to figure them out, and I’d like to draw them.”

Miss Bena’s lips softened into something that might one day resemble a smile. “I usually stay home on Sundays we don’t have church, but I suppose I could make an exception.”

“Do you need directions?” Gabe asked.

“No. I can find it.” She turned and entered the library.

“That was odd,” Grace whispered. “She almost smiled.”

“You noticed too, huh?” Gabe bounced Rachel on his knee, causing her to cackle and blow bubbles.

“How did you know her name was Sylvia,
mamm
?”

“Everyone has a first name, Grace. You didn’t think we all call her Miss Bena, did you?”

“None of the students ever called you Miss Miriam, but Miss Bena is, well she’s different. She’s a bit more…” Grace glanced up at her
mamm
as if she were searching for a word.

“Formal?” Miriam asked.

“
Ya
. That’s it. Formal and serious.”

As his
fraa
and
dochder
walked into the library, Gabe leaned back
against the street bench. It was turning into a fine summer. Crops were in the ground, and it looked as if they would have a good harvest in spite of the heavy spring rains and late start.

Elizabeth Troyer drove by, her buggy full of girls, and he raised a hand in greeting. The cabins were doing well. He expected to hear any day that Aaron was headed back to Indiana. He would miss his new friend. The boy seemed to belong here, though he didn’t realize it yet. At least there had been no more break-ins in Pebble Creek. Rae had stopped at the house and told them a similar burglary had occurred near where she lived.

The important thing was that the cabins were now busy on a regular basis. Elizabeth had shared with Miriam that they would definitely be able to stay in the Cashton area.

She would need to find someone to take over the running of the cabins when Aaron left, but Gabe had no doubt there would be plenty of interested applicants. Lots of dependable Amish folk in the area who would be interested in a steady income.

As for himself, he was content farming.

Grace thought Sunday’s luncheon was the best picnic they’d ever had. Even having Miss Bena there worked out well.

The nest of birds had stumped Miss Bena, who suggested they meet at the library again next week to try to figure out what the little guys were. “You draw well, Grace. Spend some time down here this week, if you can. Bring your tablet to the library, and we’ll compare what you’ve drawn to the reference books.”

Grace wasn’t sure she’d ever received a compliment from Miss Bena before. More important than that, her teacher seemed as interested as she was in learning the identity of the tiny birds before they flew. Grace had caught sight of the mother bird only once.

“Some moms are shy,” Miss Bena had said. “And sometimes they learn to hide so they won’t be hurt.” A shadow had crossed over her
face when she said that, but when Grace asked her
mamm
why, Miriam only told her to run and play.

So she did. She played with Sadie, whose family had come because they lived so close. Together they visited Gus and Hunter and Stanley. They even tried to lure Stormy into playing, but he was lying in the sun, and that sleepy cat wouldn’t so much as chase a ball of yarn.

When they were tired of running around, she asked, “Wanna see my new cousin?”

“Sure. How new?”

“Less than a month. We can’t hold her. She’s tiny and her skin is still wrinkled.”

They found Anna inside changing baby Abigail’s diaper.

“You named her after Grace’s
mammi
?” Sadie asked, touching the baby carefully with one finger.

“We did. Baby Abigail’s
grossmammi
gave us quite a scare.” Anna smiled as she snugged a blanket around the infant.

“She’s better now.” Grace proclaimed. “She’s even knitting again, and this summer she’s showing me how to do all sorts of things like knit and crochet and quilt better.”

“I’m a terrible quilter.” Sadie ran her hand along the porch railing as they walked down the steps.

“
Mammi
says we have lots of time to get better.”

“I guess.” Sadie looked back through the front screen door. “Think you’ll have another baby in your family?”

“
Ya
. I expect to get the news any day now.” Grace started giggling. “They still kiss a lot!”

Sadie plopped down on the front step. “I think my family’s done and I’m glad. No more room.”

“I wonder how many kids I’ll have when I’m grown. How many will you have? Do you want a lot?” Grace asked.

“Ew! I don’t want to do all that kissing.”

“Well…maybe it’s not so bad once you get older.”

“That’s what my
mamm
said about broccoli, but I still don’t like it.”

“True. I saw more cookies on the dessert table. Wanna go and get some?”

“
Ya
. Race you.” Sadie was off and running before Grace could blink.

The problem was that Grace was always thinking about the way things looked, like Sadie running across the green grass in her blue dress. That combination made for a nice picture she could draw.

So she stopped and she pulled out her tablet and sketched the outline of what she saw. By the time she caught up with Sadie, her favorite cookies, the oatmeal ones, were gone. Which taught her that if she dawdled, or if she doodled, there was sometimes a price to pay. Might be worth it though—the sketch of Sadie running toward the tables was going to be a good one.

When she finished it. There were still the details and shading to add. Maybe she’d have time later this afternoon. That was one good thing about summer. There was more extra time. She did miss school already, though. She missed seeing her friends, and she even missed class a little.

She selected one of the peanut butter cookies and caught up with Sadie. Peanut butter was all right. They were her second favorites, and sometimes art called for sacrifice.

Chapter 33

A
aron should have known things had been going too well. Reservations were holding strong and the cabins were booked up into the fall. His three employees were managing to get along—and yes, he still needed Clara and Seth as well as Lydia. But something told him the burglaries weren’t over, something more than Rae Caperton’s occasional visit to check on them.

He suspected that if the culprit attacked again, it would be on a Monday night. He was tired of waiting, so he’d planted a story that he’d be gone—only Lydia and Clara were supposed to have left already. Apparently, the girls had caught wind of his plan.

He reached forward and pulled both of them back into the shadow of the roof overhang of cabin three, his heart racing to match the patter of the rain. Though the last month had been warm and sunny, it seemed to him in that moment as if it had been raining since the day he’d stepped off the bus in Cashton, Wisconsin.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he hissed.

“I’m going to catch whoever is doing this.” Lydia tried to shake off his hand, which still firmly clutched her arm.

“And I’m going with her. You don’t think I’d let her go alone, do you?”

“Neither one of you is going alone. In fact, neither one of you is
going.” The light summer rain, rain that was sure to bless Gabe’s and David’s crops, covered the sound of their voices.

Aaron could just make out Lydia’s expression in the glow of the battery-operated night-light they had installed on the porch. Though he didn’t need good lighting to picture what she looked like. He knew her well enough to envision the irritation and stubbornness. Her eyes were squinted, eyebrows were pulled together, and lips were drawn in a straight light.

He’d never known a woman as willful as Lydia Fisher.

Which only increased his desire to take care of her. The ones who didn’t know they needed protecting were often the ones who trudged out into danger.

He could see it in her pose. She was ready to slosh across the wet grass and demand a confession from whoever was in their office.

And her little sister would tag along behind her.

“Let’s go, Lydia. He can’t keep us both here.” Clara tossed her head, sending her
kapp
strings flying. The girl had more sass than he would have thought possible in a young Amish woman. He didn’t envy the man who fell for that one.

“I might not be able to keep you both here, but you do both know I’m right. Confronting whoever is in the office right now would be foolish.”

“Are we going to allow them to take the last toy off the shelf and the last quilt off the wall?”

“Not to mention the last dollar out of the drawer?” Lydia moved the branches of the speckled alder, the same bush he’d tried to cut back to oblivion in May. It had leafed out quite nicely again since that day, providing them good cover. “They’ve been in our office for five minutes, and apparently had no problem getting through our new lock. How is that possible?”