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Authors: Marta Perry

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She wasn’t usually this inarticulate. What was wrong with her? She took a deep breath,
preparing to start again, but Adam beat her to it.

“I know. You feel as if your mother was led into an unhappy life by Eli. Or maybe
by the Amish. You didn’t like seeing your sister living that same life.”

That was the most Adam had ever said to her. She’d had him pegged as stern, unforgiving,
and maybe not too bright, but he’d certainly just cut to the heart of her difficulty.

“Can you blame me?” She met his gaze, surprised to see such understanding there. “When
I read what our mother had written, I could see that she was trapped in a life she
didn’t want. And now Lydia is doing the same.”

“Lydia isn’t trapped,” Seth said, looking as if he couldn’t be silent any longer.
“Lydia chose her life and her husband. She’s happy with what she has.”

“I know she is.” Little though she wanted to admit it, Chloe knew his words were true.
“But if our mother had lived long enough to leave, Lydia would have a completely different
life.”

Adam winced, and she realized she’d been speaking of a Lydia who would never have
loved him.

“This came yesterday for Lydia.” Adam held an envelope out to her, his arm stiff.
“It’s the answer from your mother’s friend out in Ohio. I thought Lydia should send
it to you, but she feared it was too late.”

Chloe found she was staring at the envelope as if it were a snake. She wasn’t sure
she wanted to know anything else about her mother. Everything she learned seemed to
bring someone grief.

“Adam came clear from Pleasant Valley to bring it to you,” Seth said, leaning toward
her as if willing her to listen to him. “Please don’t back away from the truth now.
Read it.”

She took the envelope, turning away from them to open it.

Not one letter, she found. Two. Quickly she scanned the answer Lydia had received
from Diane’s friend. Then, her throat tight, she unfolded the letter Diane had written.

Halfway down the page, and the print was swimming in front of her tear-filled eyes.
Her mother had written this, and a month later she’d been gone. She hadn’t known,
of course, how short a time she had. Still, she’d been happy. Content. The letter
was that of a mature woman who’d gone through a great deal and emerged stronger and
happier at the end.

Chloe folded the letter gently and slipped it back into the envelope. She’d wanted
to know if her mother found what she’d been looking for. Now, at last, she had the
answer.

* * *

Lydia
paced across the living room and back again, trying not to look out the windows. It
was full dark now, and Adam was still not back. What had possessed him to go off that
way? What if something had happened to him in the city? He wasn’t used to a place
like that—how would he even find Chloe?

She glanced at the clock he’d made for her, ticking steadily, unperturbed by her worries.
She ought to get some sleep. She’d have to be up early.

Sound reasoning, but she knew perfectly well she wouldn’t go to sleep in that bed
alone, wondering where Adam was. If she was going to be awake anyway, she may as well
stay down here.

Lydia forced herself to sit down in the rocker. She picked up a pair of David’s pants
from the mending basket, trying to decide if the rip in the knee could be fixed.

She smoothed the fabric in her hands, picturing him running full-tilt during recess
and rending the fabric. The grass stain around the tear seemed to confirm that guess.
She reached for the thread and stopped abruptly, mending forgotten.

That was a car turning in the lane, wasn’t it? Headlights reflected from the windows
as she hurried to look. A car—no, two cars, pulling up to the back door.

She ran for the door, heart thumping painfully against her ribs. If something had
happened to Adam—

She bolted out onto the porch in time to see Adam climb out of Seth’s car, giving
Seth a smile and a wave. But that wasn’t all. Chloe got out of the second car, stretching
a little as if she was tired from the drive.

Lydia went to meet them, her thoughts spinning out of control. What on earth . . . ?

“You don’t mind that I came back, do you, Lydia?” Chloe looked a little uncertain,
and she glanced at Adam, of all people, as if for support.

“Chloe read the letter,” Adam said. “She wants to try again.”

Lydia opened her arms to her sister, her throat choked with tears. “I’m so glad,”
she murmured. “So glad you came back.”

Her heart was full as she held her little sister in her arms. She looked at Adam over
Chloe’s shoulder. “You did this, ja?”

He shrugged, smiling. “Let’s go inside. Chloe is maybe tired and hungry.”

“Ja, for sure.”

Chloe shook her head. “Just tired. But very glad to be here. Thanks to Adam.” She
glanced at him, smiled, and walked into the house.

Lydia reached out to touch Adam’s sleeve, needing to be sure he was really there.
“I was so worried about you. I couldn’t believe you would go all the way to Philadelphia
for Chloe.”

“For you,” Adam said softly. He drew her against him. “I know you said you had all
that you wanted, but I know, too, that you need your sister.” He dropped a kiss on
her temple. “Amish, Englisch, Chloe is still family. Things had to be made right between
you. That was my job.”

Lydia looked up at him, her heart full. Thanks to Adam, her hope had been fulfilled.
“I love you, Adam Beachy.”

“I love you, Lydia Beachy.” He snuggled her close against him. “Komm. Let’s go in
and make your sister comfortable.”

They walked into their home. Once, it had been filled with her parents’ love, Lydia
thought. Now it was filled with hers and Adam’s.

E
PILOGUE

T
 he
apple trees were full of small green apples, promising a good harvest. Lydia walked
arm-in-arm with her sister back toward the yard. Another picnic was in full swing,
but this time there would be no quarrel to mar the pleasure.

“I love coming here,” Chloe said. “It’s so peaceful.”

The boys came running to her across the grass. “Aunt Chloe, schnell. Play catch with
us,” Daniel said, tugging at her hand.

“Ja, let’s play,” David said, clutching the other hand and attempting to pull her.

Chloe grabbed them both for a quick hug. “All right, in a minute. But you go find
the foam ball and bat I brought, so your little cousins can play, too.”

“I’ll get it.” Daniel raced off, with David following as always.

“What were you saying about peaceful?” Lydia asked, teasing.

“I love being an aunt,” Chloe said, her eyes lit with affection as she watched the
boys. “I always wanted a big family, and now I have it.” She clasped Lydia’s hand.
“Thank you for finding me.”

Lydia squeezed her fingers. “Thank you for coming back. It has only been a month since
we met, but it feels like a lifetime.”

She hesitated, knowing she should ask but not wanting to make Chloe unhappy. “Are
things any better with your grandmother?”

Chloe shrugged. “Not really. She’s not complaining as much about my visits here, though,
so that’s an improvement.”

“I’m sorry.” Lydia truly was. After all, the woman was her grandmother, too, and she
regretted that she’d never get to know her.

“I know. I wish she could unbend a little, but I don’t think she will. She doesn’t
seem to care that she has two other granddaughters.”

Lydia suspected she’d never understand what drove the woman. “Speaking of Susanna,
did I mention that I saw her again last week? I took in another clock for her shop.”

Susanna had succeeded in selling the first clock for what seemed an astonishing amount
of money. Adam’s business with clocks seemed to grow every day.

“How is she? Any news about her mother?” Chloe asked the obvious question. It wasn’t
that she didn’t care about Susanna’s adoptive mother. Of course she did, for Susanna’s
sake, at least.

“There seems to be nothing new. At least I’m getting to know Susanna through the clocks.
I pray that will make it easier for her to accept us when the time comes to tell her.”

Chloe nodded, but her gaze seemed directed toward something of interest in the backyard.
Lydia smiled. Chloe was watching Seth, who was playing horseshoes with her brothers.

“You’ve been seeing a bit of Seth, ja?” she asked.

“Once in a while, when he’s in the city.” Her tone was carefully neutral.

“He likes you.” Lydia pointed out the obvious. “Maybe . . .”

“Don’t start matchmaking,” Chloe said quickly.

“Why not? I just want to see you happy. And Seth is a fine man.”

“He is.” Chloe’s expression softened. “But I think he’s still struggling to figure
out where he belongs. And I’m not so sure of that myself.”

“I see.” Lydia tried to repress a chuckle. “Maybe,” she said, “you could both figure
that out together, ain’t so?”

Color came up in Chloe’s cheeks. “Don’t matchmake,” she said again, and then smiled
at the sight of a flock of small children running toward her, with Daniel and David
in the lead carrying the ball and bat.

“It looks as if I’m wanted,” she said. “We’ll talk again later.”

Lydia was standing and watching the ensuing game when Adam came up behind her. She
was not at all surprised that Seth had found some reason to stop playing horseshoes
and join Chloe in playing with the children.

Adam slid his arm around her unobtrusively. “Did you tell her?” he whispered in her
ear.

“Not yet.” She smiled, capturing his hand with hers and moving it to her abdomen,
which was no longer as flat as it once was. “I want to hug the information to ourselves
for just a little bit longer.”

“Your maam will guess, if she hasn’t already,” Adam said.

“I’m sure. She said something to me just this afternoon about how happy I’m looking.
I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if she went home and started putting together the pieces
for a baby quilt.”

“It will be gut to have another little one.” Adam rested his cheek against her hair,
an unusual gesture for him when there were people around. “Maybe, this time, I’ll
get to make a dollhouse.”

“Maybe,” she said, sure he knew that a baby girl was her secret hope. “Boy or girl,
a new baby will bring us so much happiness.”

He nodded, and she could feel the movement, just as she could feel the beating of
his heart and hear the sound of his breath. She had been so blessed.

Only one small flaw remained in her life. Susanna. But one day they’d be able to tell
her. Until then, Lydia would cling to the hope that they would be a complete family
again.

R
ECIPES

Apple Walnut Cake

This recipe has been an autumn favorite of my family’s for as long as I can remember.
It’s a good keeper, as it stays moist for days.

4 cups pared, chopped apples

2 cups sugar

2 eggs

1
/
2
cup vegetable oil

2 teaspoons vanilla

2 cups flour

2 teaspoons baking soda

2 teaspoons cinnamon

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup chopped walnuts

Preheat oven to 350ºF.

Combine the apples and sugar in a bowl and set aside. Beat the eggs in the oil and
vanilla in a large bowl. In a third bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, cinnamon,
and salt. Stir the flour mixture and the apple mixture alternately into the oil and
vanilla. Add the walnuts and stir. Pour the batter into a 13 x 9-inch pan sprayed
with cooking spray.

Bake for one hour. Good served warm with whipped cream or ice cream.

Apple Dumplings

A big hit at the county fair!

6 baking apples

2
/
3
cup milk

1 large egg

2
1
/
2
cups sifted flour

2
1
/
2
teaspoons baking powder

dash of salt

1
/
2
cup sugar mixed with 1 tablespoon cinnamon

6 teaspoons butter

Preheat oven to 425ºF.

Peel, core, and cut the apples into quarters.

Mix the milk and egg together in a bowl. Gradually stir in the flour, baking powder,
and salt. Stir until the mixture forms a soft dough. Turn out onto a floured board
and knead lightly a few times. Roll out the dough with a floured rolling pin into
a 24 x 16-inch oblong and cut it into six 8-inch squares. Divide the apple pieces
among the squares. Sprinkle the apples with the cinnamon-sugar mixture, reserving
about a tablespoon for later, and dot each with a teaspoon of butter. Bring the corners
of the dough up to enclose the apples and pinch to seal. Place the dumplings in a
large baking pan, not touching.

Bake at 425º for 10 minutes, then lower the heat to 350º and continue baking for another
40 minutes. Remove from the oven and sprinkle the tops with the rest of the cinnamon-sugar
mixture. Serve warm with cream, whipped cream, or ice cream.

Homemade Chunky Applesauce

We enjoy applesauce made fresh and served warm, so there’s usually a bag or basket
of McIntosh apples on my countertop year-round.

8 tart apples, such as McIntosh

water

dash of salt

1 cup sugar

1 tablespoon cinnamon

Peel and core the apples. Cut into eighths. Place in a pan and add water just to cover.
Add salt. Bring to a boil, cover, and turn down to low to simmer for about 10 minutes.
Remove the lid, stir, and add the sugar. Continue to cook slowly, stirring, until
the apples begin to fall apart into sauce but some pieces are still whole. Remove
from heat and add cinnamon. Taste and adjust the sugar and cinnamon as needed. Serve
warm or chill in the refrigerator.

Dear Reader,

Lydia’s Hope
represents a new challenge for me, as it’s the first time I’ve attempted a “series
within a series,” as well as the first time I’ve written an Amish book from the viewpoints
of four important characters. I know that challenges help us grow, and I sincerely
hope this story has urged me forward as a writer.

Lydia’s story is linked very closely with the next book,
Susanna’s Dream,
which will follow the continuing tale of the three lost sisters and their efforts
to create a bond after so many years apart. I hope you’ll be eager to find out what
the future holds for all three women.

I believe the bond between sisters is a very special one. No one else knows you as
well as your sister, and no one else understands what it was like growing up in your
family. A sister is a precious gift, and I’ve been blessed with a dear sister as well
as with four delightful sisters-in-law who are as close as sisters. Writing about
sisters gave me an opportunity to express the appreciation I feel every day for their
place in my life.

I would love to hear your thoughts on my book. If you’d care to write to me, I’d be
happy to reply with a signed bookmark or bookplate and my brochure of Pennsylvania
Dutch recipes. You can find me on the Web at www.martaperry.com and on Facebook at
facebook.com/MartaPerryBooks, e-mail me at [email protected], or write to me in
care of Berkley Publicity Department, Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, NY 10014.

Blessings,

Marta Perry

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