Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance, #Fiction/Christian Romance
Now, if they could just get their house finished, things would be nearly perfect. It wasn’t that she minded living with her folks, but it wasn’t the same as having a place of their own. Grace was anxious to set out her wedding gifts, as well as the things she had in her hope chest. Cleon had said the other day that he hoped the house would be finished in a few months, but since he’d gotten so busy with new honey orders, he’d spent less time working on it.
Grace had wanted to do some work on the house herself since she’d quit her job at the restaurant as soon as they were married, but she didn’t know a lot about carpentry. Even if Grace had, Cleon made it clear that building the house was his job, and with the help he got from other family members, including Grace’s father, Grace knew their home would be finished in due time, so she needed to be patient.
She glanced out the kitchen window and noticed the dismal-looking gray sky. Between that and the drop in temperature, they were sure to have more snow.
Grace had just finished with the potatoes when she heard a knock on the front door.
That’s strange. Hardly anyone we know uses the front door.
She left the kitchen, hurried through the hall, and opened the door. A tall, middle-aged man wearing a dark green jacket and a pair of earmuffs stood on the porch. He held the hand of a petite little girl whose dark brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The child wore blue jeans and a puffy pink jacket with a hood, and as she looked up at Grace with a quizzical expression, her clear blue eyes blinked rapidly.
“Can I help you?” Grace asked, thinking the man had probably stopped to ask for directions like other English tourists did when they got lost.
He cleared his throat. Seconds ticked by as they stared at each other. “Grace Davis?”
Her mouth went dry, and she glanced around, relieved that she was alone. She hadn’t been called by that name since—
“Is this the Hostettler home?”
She could only nod in reply. Who was this man, and how did he know her previous married name?
“Are you Grace?”
She nodded again as she studied him closer. They might have met before, but she couldn’t be sure. Could he have been one of her customers at the restaurant or maybe someone from one of the English-owned stores in town? But if that were so, how did he know her last name used to be Davis?
Grace glanced at the little girl again. She was certain she’d never met her, yet there was something familiar about the child. “Have ... have we met before?” she asked, returning her gaze to the man.
He nodded. “Just once—at my son’s funeral.”
Grace’s heart slammed into her chest with such force, she had to lean against the doorjamb for support. The man who stood before her was Wade’s father, Carl Davis. She looked down at the little girl standing beside him, and goose bumps erupted on her arms.
“This is your daughter.” Carl touched the child’s shoulder. “Anna, this is your mother. As I told you before, you’ll be living with her from now on.”
Anna’s eyes were downcast, and her chin quivered slightly.
Grace clung to the door, unsure of what to say or do. She was glad her long skirt hid her knees, for they knocked so badly, she could barely stand. She’d never expected to see Anna again, much less have her show up on her doorstep like this.
“How did you find me? Where have you been all this time? Why are you here?” Grace’s head swam with so many unanswered questions she hardly knew where to begin.
“May we come inside?” Carl motioned to Anna. “She’s tired from the long plane ride, and it’s cold out here.”
“Oh, of course.” Grace held the door open for them and, on shaky legs, led the way to the living room.
Carl pulled off his earmuffs and took a seat on one end of the sofa, lifting Anna into his lap. Grace seated herself in the rocking chair across from them, fighting the urge to gather the girl into her arms and kiss her sweet face. Anna looked so befuddled, and Grace didn’t want to frighten or confuse her anymore than she obviously was.
“Before I answer your questions,” Carl said, removing Anna’s jacket and then letting her turn and nestle against his chest, “I need to explain a few things.”
Grace nodded in reply, never taking her eyes off Anna—the precious little girl she’d been forced to give up four years ago.
“When Wade married you without inviting us to the wedding, my wife was devastated.”
“Where is Bonnie?”
“I’m getting to that.” Carl leaned over and placed Anna on the other end of the sofa. Her eyes had closed, and her steady, even breathing let Grace know she’d fallen asleep. “When Wade finally called and told us he had moved to Cincinnati and had gotten married, Bonnie insisted that he tell her everything he knew about you—where you were from, what your background was, and why you had convinced him to elope with you and not include us in the wedding.”
“But ... but I didn’t convince him,” Grace sputtered. “Eloping was Wade’s idea, and none of our parents were invited to the wedding.” She stared down at her hands, clenched tightly in her lap. “My folks don’t know I was ever married to your son or that we had—” She drew in a quick breath. “Go ahead with what you were about to say.”
“Wade told us soon after you were married that you’d grown up in the Amish faith and that you had lived here in Holmes County, somewhere between Berlin and Charm. He said your last name had been Hostettler, and that you’d left your faith in order to marry him.”
“Actually, I hadn’t been baptized or joined the church yet.”
“I see. Well, since I knew your family’s last name and the general area where they lived, I was able to track you down.”
A lump formed in Grace’s throat. “I tried to call you and Bonnie soon after you left with Anna, but your phone had been disconnected. I wrote several letters, but they all came back with a stamped message saying you had moved and there was no forwarding address.”
“Bonnie thought it would be better if you had no contact with Anna.” Carl shifted on the sofa. “So we moved from our home in Michigan to Nevada, where we had some friends, and left no forwarding address.”
“Why are you here now after making no contact with me these past four and a half years?”
“Bonnie had a sudden heart attack a few days after Christmas and died.”
“I–I’m sorry.” Even though Grace had only met Wade’s folks when they’d come to his funeral, she’d taken an immediate dislike to his mother. Still, she took no pleasure in knowing the woman was dead.
“I’ve had my own share of health problems lately, and because of that, I won’t be able to continue caring for Anna on my own.” Carl swiped his tongue across his lower lip and grimaced. “I want you to know that I never felt good about taking your baby from you. It was Bonnie’s idea. She felt we could give Anna a better home.”
Too little, too late. Why couldn’t you have stood up to your wife back then? Why couldn’t you have offered me some financial support instead of taking my child?
Grace lifted her hands to her temples and massaged them with her fingertips. “I was so young, and ... and I knew I couldn’t provide properly for a baby. I was grieving over my husband, and I didn’t know what was best for me or Anna at the time.” She paused and drew in a quick breath to help steady her nerves. “I wanted to take my little girl and go home to my folks, but I—I was afraid of their rejection.”
He opened his mouth as if to comment, but she rushed on. “Ever since the day you took Anna, I’ve felt guilty for letting someone else raise my daughter and for not having the courage to tell my family about my marriage or that I’d had a baby girl. I was too ashamed to admit I’d given up my rights as her mother, and since I didn’t think I would ever see Anna again, I decided it would be best to keep my marriage and my daughter a secret.”
He glanced around the room. “Where are they now—your family?”
“My dad’s out in his woodworking shop, Mom went to visit a friend, and my two sisters are in town shopping.”
Carl leaned slightly forward. “As I said before, I can’t take care of Anna myself, so I’ve brought her to you. You’re her mother and should have been the one caring for her these past four years, not me and Bonnie.”
Grace closed her eyes as the memory of Wade’s funeral and all that had happened afterwards rose before her. It had been enough of a shock to learn that Wade had been killed, but when his parents showed up for the funeral and said they wanted to take Anna, Grace’s whole world had fallen apart.
She remembered how Bonnie had insisted that Grace let them raise the child, saying they could offer her more than Grace possibly could. When Grace refused, Bonnie threatened to hire a lawyer and prove that she was an unfit mother, unable to provide for Anna’s needs. Bonnie and Carl had promised Grace visiting rights, saying she was welcome to see her little girl anytime she could make the trip to Michigan. But that hadn’t happened because they’d moved, and Grace had given up all hope of ever seeing her daughter again.
Grace’s eyes snapped open as the reality of the situation set fully in. Wade’s father was offering her the chance to raise Anna—something she should have been doing all along. But the child didn’t know Grace, and it would be a difficult transition for both of them. Not only that, but agreeing to keep Anna would mean Grace would have to reveal the secret she’d kept from her family and Cleon. She would need to explain why she had hidden the truth.
Grace rose from the chair and knelt on the floor in front of the sofa, reaching out to stroke her daughter’s flushed cheeks. “Oh, Anna, I’ve never forgotten you.” She gulped on a sob. “I’ve never stopped loving you, either.”
Carl cleared his throat. “Are you willing to take her? Because if you aren’t, I’ll need to make other arrangements.”
Other arrangements?
Grace had already lost Anna once and couldn’t bear the thought of losing her again. Regardless of her family’s response, she knew what she had to do. “I think God might be offering me a second chance,” she murmured.
“Does that mean Anna can stay?”
She nodded. “I will never let her go again.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Carl rose. “I packed some of Anna’s winter clothes, and her suitcase is in my rental car. I’ll get her things and be on my way before she wakes up.” He smiled at his granddaughter as tears welled in his eyes. “It’ll be better that way.”
Grace started to get up, but he waved her aside. “No need to see me out. I’ll just get the suitcase, bring it inside, and head back to the airport.”
For the next hour, Grace sat on the floor in front of the sofa, watching her daughter sleep and thanking God for the opportunity He’d given her to be with Anna again.
When the back door slammed shut, Grace jumped, and when she heard the unmistakable sound of her father’s boots clomping across the linoleum in the kitchen, she cringed. Her secret was about to be revealed. She could no longer hide the truth.
Chapter 18
“Is anybody home?” Dad called.
Grace’s heart took a nosedive. She couldn’t let him see Anna without explaining things first. Guilt clung to her like a spider’s web to a fly. If only she could undo the past. Oh, how she wished she hadn’t kept this secret from her family.
“Grace, are you here?”
She jumped up and rushed out of the room, meeting him in the hallway outside the kitchen door.
“I figured you were here, but I wasn’t sure about your mamm and sisters. Are they home yet?” Dad asked.
“No, and I—I don’t expect them until closer to suppertime.” Grace took hold of his arm. “Uh, Dad, we need to talk.”
“Sure, I’ve got time for a little break. Just came in to refill my thermos with something to drink.” He nodded toward the living room. “Should we go in there?”
She shook her head. Panic threatened to overtake her. “Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll pour you a glass of goat’s milk, and we can sit at the table.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Grace followed her father down the hall. When they entered the kitchen, he pulled out his chair at the head of the table and took a seat, stretching his arms over his head. “Didn’t realize how tired I was until I sat down. I’ve been working too many long hours lately.”
Grace took down two glasses from the cupboard and poured some milk.
As she handed a glass to her father, his forehead wrinkled. “Your hands are shaking. Is there something wrong? There hasn’t been another break-in, I hope.”
She shook her head and sank into the chair across from him. “We had a visitor awhile ago—an English man with a little girl.”
He took a drink from his glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Oh? Did they come in a car?”
“Jah.”
“I’m surprised I didn’t hear it pull into the yard. Of course, I’ve been hammering and sawing much of the day, so most outside sounds would probably have been drowned out.” He took another drink. “Who were the English visitors?”
Grace’s throat felt so dry and swollen she could barely swallow. She took a sip of milk and nearly choked as the cool liquid trickled down the wrong pipe.
“Are you okay?” Dad jumped up and thumped her on the back. “Take a couple of deep breaths.”
She coughed and sputtered, finally gaining enough control so she could speak. “There’s ... uh ... something I must tell you.”