Redeeming Grace. Emma Miller
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wondered whether to play it safe and be polite or to be himself. Himself won. “Um...she’s nice. Pretty.” He met her gaze. “But, Hannah, I’m confused. Grace isn’t Amish, is she?”
“Ne, John, that she isn’t.”
“A friend of the family from out of town?”
“None of us had ever laid eyes on her until last night. She came to us out of the storm, soaked to the skin and near to exhaustion. She’d been hitchhiking.”
“Pretty dangerous for a young woman,” he observed, not sure where the conversation was going.
John could tell that Hannah was pondering something, and that she wanted to talk, yet the Amish tradition of intense privacy remained strong. John waited. Either she would share her concerns or she wouldn’t. No amount of nudging would budge her if she wanted to be secretive.
But then Hannah blurted right out, “Grace is my late husband’s daughter.”
“Jonas’s daughter?” John stared at her in disbelief. He’d never heard that Jonas had been married before. “Jonas was married—”
“Jonas and Grace’s mother never married. She ran away from the church. Jonas never knew she was in the family way.”
John couldn’t have been more shocked if a steer had been sitting at Hannah’s table this morning. For a moment he didn’t know what to say. Jonas Yoder had been one of the most genuinely kind and decent men he had ever known. It just didn’t seem to fit that Jonas would... “You’re certain this isn’t a scam of some kind?” He couldn’t imagine that the young woman he’d met inside could do anything dishonest, but Uncle Albert had often told him that he was naive when it came to seeing who or what people truly were. “She’s not trying to get anything from you? Money or something?”
“She’s asked for nothing. She came here looking for Jonas and I had to tell her he’d passed.”
Poor Grace, he thought. How terrible for her. But how terrible for Hannah, too. Not just to hear this news, to learn the awful truth about her beloved husband, but to have to tell his child that he was dead.
“I...believe the girl is who she says she is,” Hannah admitted, going on slowly. “Jonas told me...confided to me his affection for her mother, Trudie. Jonas was under the impression they were courting, then Trudie left the church and her family and disappeared. Jonas never knew anything about a baby. I would suspect her family didn’t, either.”
“It’s possible, I suppose.” John glanced out into the farmyard, feeling so badly for Hannah. Not wanting her to feel uncomfortable. This kind of thing was a delicate matter. Unwed young Amish women occasionally got pregnant, but it didn’t happen often. And when it did, there was repentance, then a quick wedding and the matter was settled. “She has the same color hair as your girls.”
“And Jonas’s blue eyes.”
John glanced toward the kitchen door, picturing again the guarded expression in the young woman’s gaze. “I thought there was something familiar about her. She favors Johanna, not as tall, and she’s a lot thinner, but...”
“Too thin by my way of thinking, but Miriam was always slender, too.”
John nodded. It hadn’t been easy, coming to accept losing Miriam. But after two years, he could see her or hear her name without feeling as though a horse had kicked him in the gut. And he could see that she’d made the right decision. She wouldn’t have been happy leaving the Amish, so as much as he hated to admit it, Charley was right for her.
“How do you feel about Grace coming here?” he asked. “It must be a shock to you.”
“Ya, a shock. It...is. My Jonas was as capable of making a mistake as any of us. As much as I loved and respected him...” She shrugged. “A bishop, my Jonas was, but I knew him to be a man first. His girls think him perfect.” She chuckled. “And the longer he’s dead, the more perfect he becomes.”
John grinned. “That happens a lot, and not just in your family. My mother and father didn’t always see eye to eye, but once he died, Mom promoted him to sainthood.”
Hannah laced her fingers together. “Whatever Jonas’s faults, he repented of them and asked God’s forgiveness every day. When he passed, he left me the means to care for his children and myself and nothing but good memories.” She walked down the steps and into the sunshine.
John followed her, giving her a moment before he spoke again. “You are the most remarkable person, Hannah Yoder. Most women would have been furious or so hurt, so bitter that they couldn’t have considered inviting the girl into their home.”
“Ne.” She shook her head and slowly slid down to sit on the top step of the porch. “I am not remarkable, only numb, like after you hit your thumb with a hammer. Before the pain starts.”
“But you didn’t take it out on Grace. That’s what matters. You had compassion for a stranger.”
“Why should I blame her? None of this is Grace’s fault. She’s innocent. I need to remember that. My girls will look to me to see how to treat her, as will the community.”
“I’m just saying, as your friend, that you have a right to be upset.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Her coming here changes your family. Forever.”
“And her,” Hannah said. “I don’t believe she has had an easy life. Her mother died when she was a child.”
“So she’s left without a mother or a father?” No wonder she had the look of a lost puppy, he thought. But then, he corrected himself. Not a puppy, but a feral kitten, wanting so badly to be loved, but ready to scratch to defend itself. “So now that she’s here, what are you going to do with her?”
Hannah frowned ever so gently. “Honestly, John, I have no idea.”
* * *
Later, after John left and the breakfast dishes were cleared away and Rebecca and Jonah had left for the other sister’s house, Grace watched as Johanna settled at the kitchen table with a pile of quilting pieces. Her daughter sat beside her, playing with her own squares of cloth. Just as the night before, Johanna seemed stiff and reserved. Grace couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t every day a stranger showed up claiming to be a long-lost sister. Katie, however, was all dimples and giggling personality in her Amish dress, apron and white cap.
“How old are you?” Grace asked the child.
“Drei!” Katie held up three fingers.
“My goodness, you’re a big girl for three,” Grace said. She and Dakota were the same age, but Katie was nearly a head taller and much sturdier. Shyly, her son hid behind her skirt and peered out at Katie. “Come out and meet Katie,” she said, taking his hand. She squatted down so that she was closer in size to the two of them. “Katie, this is Dakota.”
He stared at her, and Grace ruffled his hair. No matter how much she slicked it down, his coarse Indian hair insisted on sticking up like the straw in a scarecrow. No wonder Joe had grown his long and braided it. “Say hello,” she urged her son.
“’Lo,” he managed. Grace could tell that he wanted to play with Katie. Since she’d had to pull him out of day care back in Nebraska, Dakota had missed his friends.
Katie put a finger in her mouth and stared back.
“She doesn’t speak English very well yet,” Hannah said, walking into the kitchen. “But she understands it. Most children learn when they start school, but Jonas always insisted that we use both English and Pennsylvania Dutch at home, so the girls wouldn’t feel uncomfortable among the Englishers.” She looked at Johanna. “I know you need to get to your quilt, but if you, Grace and Susanna could hang out the wash, I can get that turkey in the oven.” She glanced at Grace. “I hope you don’t mind. We all pitch in to do the housework.”
“Sure,” Grace said. “I’ll be glad to help. Tell