Rose started for the door, figuring Matthias would be behind her—and then stopped. Matthias, too, leaned over to kiss Gracie’s cheek. “Close your eyes and sleep, sweetie. I’ll see you on Monday when you come to Morning Star.” He flipped the switch on the battery lamp and then followed Rose from the darkened room.
As Rose went quietly down the stairs, she wondered how she would tell Matthias about meeting her birth mother . . . how she would ask his advice about what she should do next. She was still feeling uplifted by the way Matthias had read to Gracie and prayed with them; it seemed a shame to spoil the mood by talking about her birth mother. However, this was the only time Rose could talk to him without Gracie listening in.
“Shall we sit out on the swing with some lemonade?” Rose asked when she and Matthias reached the kitchen.
For the first time this evening, Matthias appeared a little nervous. “Gut idea,” he replied. “For what I’ve got to say, I might need to wet my whistle a time or two.”
Chapter 20
Matthias sipped gratefully from his glass of lemonade as he sat at one end of the swing, a respectful distance from Rose. He felt as nervous as a kid asking the girl of his dreams if he could give her a ride home from a singing, knowing that the topic he wanted to discuss carried a lot more weight than asking a pretty girl for a date. He was still floating from the idyllic time he’d spent tucking Gracie into bed, bathed in her sweet, clean aroma as she gazed so lovingly into his eyes. The child he and Sadie were expecting would’ve been a few years younger than Gracie, had Sadie lived, and Matthias still ached for both of them.
But the ache was ebbing now . . . and Matthias knew he was wading into a relationship that might either suck him down with the undertow or leave him high and dry, lonely again. He sensed Rose was waiting for him to open the conversation, so he cleared his throat.
“I, uh, met Saul Hartzler and his wife this past week,” he began in a tight voice. “Saul has offered me a full partnership in his carriage business, and I accepted.”
When Matthias stole a glance at Rose, the darkness couldn’t camouflage her shock. Her mouth was an O, but no sound came out as she stared at him. “Well, now,” she finally said, “I met Anne—and Martha Maude—Hartzler this week, too. And I don’t know how to tell her who I am—or how I’ll be able to act as though I don’t know who she is,” Rose continued hoarsely. “Anne and her mother-in-law bring their crocheted and quilted items to the senior center every now and again. Gracie has already wrapped Martha Maude around her little finger, so that complicates matters even more.”
It was Matthias’s turn to stare. “They just walked in?” he asked. Then the more obvious question came to him. “Did Anne realize who you were, Rose?”
“I—I don’t think so. But it was all I could do not to blurt out my maiden name,” she confessed. “I had to go hide in the kitchen, to settle myself down.”
“Wow. I can’t imagine how tough that must’ve been.” Matthias thought hard for a moment, considering whether Rose’s revelation would affect the way he told her the rest of his story. “After all the talking Bishop Vernon and I did, telling you not to go looking for Anne, it’s quite a coincidence that she found you. But I still—”
“I’m not so sure it was a coincidence,” Rose murmured. “I believe God always knows what He’s doing.”
Matthias blinked. “There’s that,” he said with a sigh, “but when I went to the Hartzlers’ for dinner last week, I became even more certain that you shouldn’t pursue a reunion with Anne. Saul’s a big, bold fellow who’s used to having things go his way—no doubt the wealthiest Amish fellow in Morning Star, by the looks of the assembly line and all the employees in his carriage shop.”
“And then there’s Martha Maude,” Rose mused aloud. She gazed out over the porch railing as though she could find a solution to this problem in the velvety darkness of the night sky. “Just from the few minutes I spent with her and Anne, I had the feeling Saul’s mamm might have the upper hand. She seemed much more outgoing.”
“Jah, she is. She and Saul have a lot in common,” Matthias agreed. “But here’s the deal—Saul and Anne have no children . . .”
Rose’s eyes widened in surprise.
“. . . and that’s why Saul asked me to become his full partner,” he continued earnestly. “I was shocked that he’d consider somebody he’d just met a few days before, but he asked around in Willow Ridge about me and the quality of my work. He says he’s got no employees who could keep the business profitable after he dies.”
“Oh, my.” Rose’s pretty green eyes widened. “That’s quite an honor, Matthias.”
“Jah, I thought so, too. I knew in a heartbeat that my harness business would grow by leaps and bounds if I associated with Saul’s shop,” he said with a nod. He longed to reach over and take Rose’s hand, but he wasn’t sure the moment was right. “Turns out Martha Maude is the company’s bookkeeper.”
“I’m not surprised. But I’m wondering if Anne’s as meek as a little mouse, or if she ever puts her foot down—ever speaks her piece if she disagrees with Saul and his mamm.” Rose inhaled some cool night air and let it out. “I figured she’d have kids to look after, though—and grandkids by now. That puts her marriage in a different light altogether.”
Matthias heard the yearning in Rose’s voice and figured he’d better spell out his feelings. “Rose, the way I see it, if Saul gets word about you being Anne’s daughter by another man, and he realizes I’m a link in this chain, he’ll tear our partnership papers to shreds and send me packing. I hope you don’t think I’m selfish, seeing things this way.”
Rose gazed forlornly at her hands, clasped in her lap. “I suspect Martha Maude would side with her son and be upset about Anne having a baby out of wedlock. If it’s two against one, my mother will be backed into a corner . . . with no place to go, even though Saul can’t put her out.”
Matthias tentatively scooted toward the center of the swing and took Rose’s hand in his. “I’m sorry this situation is so complicated,” he whispered.
“Me too.” Rose gazed at their two joined hands, making no effort to remove hers. “But what am I to do, Matthias? If Anne is my mother—the only relative I have left—”
“But, Mamma, Mammi Lydia’s your mamm!” Gracie protested as she rushed out of the house to stand in front of Rose. “Anne is that nice lady who makes those pretty things for the folks at the senior center.”
Matthias kicked himself for not checking to be sure Gracie was sleeping before he began this conversation. Rose looked as bewildered as he felt. It was clear she hadn’t told her daughter about being born to a mother different from the one who’d raised her—and obvious that Rose had no idea how to explain the situation, either.
What can I do to help Rose out of this awkward spot? Matthias wondered. Depending on how much Gracie heard, she might lose all her trust in me if I don’t handle this openly and honestly....
* * *
Rose frantically tried to keep her composure and say the right thing. Gracie was only five, but she was bright and she never forgot a name, a face, or a story. Rose was grateful that Matthias hadn’t released her hand or said anything questionable that Gracie might bring up to them later—or that made the two of them appear guilty of lying to her. Rose was also relieved that when her daughter placed both of her little hands on top of Matthias’s larger one, Gracie acted as if it was perfectly normal for Matthias to be clasping Rose’s hand while they sat on the swing together.
Bless him, Matthias leaned forward and opened his arm, and Gracie crawled up into his lap. “How long have you been listening to us, Gracie?” he asked gently. “What did you hear that you want to ask questions about?”
Gracie snuggled against his chest even as she nipped her lip. She knew she was supposed to stay in bed once she’d been tucked in, unless she was ill. “I dunno,” she hedged. “I was just seein’ if you was still here, Matthias.”
Rose closed her eyes, sighing. She cou
ldn’t be angry, because Gracie adored Matthias and didn’t want to miss out on anything. “What do you want to ask me, sweet pea?” she repeated. It was better to have her daughter express her doubts than to try to second-guess them.
Gracie nearly put her thumb in her mouth, but thought better of it. “Why did you call Anne your mamma?” she asked. “Does Mammi know, up in Heaven?”
Rose reached over to stroke Gracie’s cheek, praying for the right words. “Your mammi told me about Anne right before she passed on, Gracie. When Mammi was a young woman, she had cancer and wasn’t able to have babies, so she adopted me from Anne when I was only a few days old.”
Gracie considered this. “It was the cancer?”
“Jah. Mammi had it when she was young, and it came back last year.” Rose blinked back sudden tears. “The cancer is what she died from, remember?”
After a moment, Matthias gazed at Rose before taking their explanation along a more pleasant path. “The lady you met—Anne—hasn’t seen your mamma for a long time—”
“Nearly thirty years,” Rose murmured with a nod.
“—because your mamma was just a wee little baby. She looks a lot different, now that she’s a grown-up,” Matthias continued patiently. “That’s why Anne doesn’t know that your mamma was her little baby, once upon a time. And Martha Maude doesn’t know, either.”
Gracie’s eyes lit up. “Can I tell ’em? They’ll be real happy to find out who Mamma is, jah?”
Rose’s hand fluttered to her mouth before she could blurt out a no. If the situation in the Hartzler household were different—as uncomplicated as five-year-old Gracie assumed it was—it would be much easier to explain. The last thing Rose wanted was to cast Anne into an unbecoming, immoral light, because her words would probably come back to haunt them at the wrong time. Gracie didn’t understand about how babies were made or why it was best for a woman to be married before she had one.
“No, Gracie, this is your mother’s story to tell,” Matthias insisted gently. “There’s a right time to talk about this with other people, and your mamma’s the one who should decide when that is.”
When Gracie sat up to gaze into Matthias’s eyes, assessing what he’d said, Rose wanted to hug him hard. She had a feeling that because Matthias had been the one to insist Gracie should keep quiet, Gracie would be more likely to do it. Rose had no idea how she’d manage her daughter the next time Anne and Martha Maude brought handmade items to the senior center, but at least Matthias was helping her. He realized how Gracie trusted him and believed in him, and he would hold her responsible for what she might say or do. And because he’d become Saul Hartzler’s partner, his future and livelihood might be directly affected by how well Gracie kept this information to herself.
Rose squeezed Matthias’s larger, stronger hand. Like it or not, they were united now by a common purpose. While Rose still longed to have a relationship with her birth mother, she also understood how high the stakes were for Matthias—and for Anne—if Saul Hartzler learned that Anne had birthed a baby out of wedlock.
You’ve got to help us with this, God—please, Rose prayed as she gazed at her little girl. Gracie’s too young and innocent to understand—
“So if Anne is your mamm,” Gracie pondered aloud, “who’s your dat, Mamma?”
Rose sucked in air, exchanging a startled gaze with Matthias. She didn’t feel it was appropriate to mention Joel Lapp’s name, because she sensed he would never be a piece in this puzzle they were all trying to put together. Heat crept into her cheeks. This topic seemed awfully intimate to be discussing with her five-year-old. The silence of the night stretched on as Gracie gazed steadily at Rose from Matthias’s lap.
Matthias cleared his throat. “Gracie, some things are meant for adults to know—”
“But Mamma tells me everything,” Gracie insisted with innocent confidence. “I can go back to bed now and she can tell you his name—and then I’ll hear it, too, through my window—or she can just tell me now,” she added sweetly.
Rose nearly choked. Where had her daughter attained this all-knowing attitude? Did Gracie believe Rose told her everything because she was the only other person in her family now? Or was Gracie playing Matthias against her, confident that he would do anything because he adored her as much as she adored him? “Young lady, it’s time you went back upstairs to bed,” she said firmly. “Matthias is right. Some things are for adults to know—”
“I should be going, anyway,” Matthias added with an apologetic glance at Rose. “Tomorrow’s Sunday, so we should all pray about this situation—and pray for Anne and Martha Maude,” he added. He released Rose’s hand to turn Gracie’s face gently so she was looking at him. “And we should pray for each other again, too, so God knows we’re paying attention to the way He wants us to live together and . . . love each other. Gut night, Gracie. Mind your mamma. I’ll see you Monday.”
Gracie threw her arms around Matthias’s neck. “Don’t leave us,” she whimpered. “Me and Mamma, we—”
“Gracie, that’s enough.” Rose stood up as Matthias did, and opened her arms.
Instead of leaning toward her mother’s embrace, Gracie wiggled to get down. When Matthias set her on the porch floor, the little girl walked resolutely into the house, careful not to let the door slam behind her. Rose heard the patter of running feet on the hardwood floor of the front room, and then ascending the stairs.
Rose smiled sadly at Matthias. The moon had come out from behind the clouds and the night had a beautiful, romantic glow to it. Matthias pointed upward, toward Gracie’s open window, a questioning expression on his face.
“Jah, who knew she could hear us? She must’ve been listening through the screen door as well,” Rose whispered. “I’m sorry if Gracie was pushing your buttons—”
Matthias gently grasped her arm, remaining under the porch ceiling. “She’s just being curious, amazing Gracie,” he insisted. “Gut night, Rose. It was a wonderful evening. I’ll wait for you at the senior center Monday morning and take your mare and rig to my place. Happy to do it.”
Rose nodded, hugging herself. It was too soon to be having such thoughts; yet she had the urge to wrap her arms around Matthias, to be enveloped by his warmth, his strength. He nodded, as though he knew what she was thinking, and then strode across the moonlit yard to the stable. Rose suddenly felt very lonely. She waved as Matthias drove down the lane toward the road, and then went back into the house.
Upstairs, Gracie was in bed with the sheet and quilt pulled over her head, so Rose left her alone. She went to her bedroom to get ready for bed. In her nightgown, as she ran a brush through the dark auburn hair that fell below her bottom, she gazed out the window. The stars glimmered in the clear night sky, filling her with a sense of peace and promise despite the way the evening had ended. She wouldn’t sleep much, but tomorrow was a Sunday without church, so she and Gracie could rest up for the coming week at the senior center.
What are You leading us to, Lord? she prayed as she thought back to her time with Matthias. My life is confusing now, and a little scary—but I thank You for new opportunities that sparkle like the stars in Your Heaven.
Chapter 21
Sunday dawned sunny and bright, and when Rose took Gracie to the stable to tend to Daisy’s feed and water, she carried luggage to their surrey—a double-size buggy—as well. “Tomorrow we’ll go to Morning Star for five days,” Rose reminded her daughter. “We have our clothes packed, and a box of your toys and books. Have we forgotten anything?”
Gracie thought for a moment while Rose arranged their belongings in the back of the rig. “Are we takin’ feed for Daisy?”
“Gut idea! I hadn’t thought of that,” Rose replied. “We’ll take this half sack of rations with us, and a couple bales of hay, and we’ll ask Matthias what else we should bring. It’s nice of him to help us with Daisy.”
“Matthias is awful nice,” Gracie remarked sadly. “But he leaved us.”
“He left us last night,”
Rose corrected, “because he had to go home, sweet pea. Here—put the hose in the trough and I’ll turn on the water.”
Gracie walked over to the galvanized tank and obediently positioned the hose over it, but Rose thought her daughter seemed withdrawn. She’d only eaten half of her French toast at breakfast, and she’d been uncharacteristically quiet all morning. When a stream of water made the hose jump, Gracie didn’t giggle as she usually did.
Rose finished tucking the mare’s rations into the buggy and joined Gracie at the water trough. “Are you all right, Gracie? You seem sad today.”
Gracie’s lower lip popped out as she blinked rapidly. “Matthias thought I was bein’ bad last night,” she whimpered. “I just wanted to be with you and him insteada up in my room all by myself.”
Gracie’s heartbroken expression made Rose’s heart shrivel. She stooped to wrap her arms around her daughter—who couldn’t comprehend the consequences of the information she’d overheard last night. “I know, sweetie,” she murmured, kissing Gracie’s cheek. “And I know how much you like Matthias—and how much you liked Anne and Martha Maude when you met them, too. But Matthias was right,” she insisted. “Some things are for grown-ups—like drinking coffee and shoveling Daisy’s poop out of the stable.”
Gracie turned up her nose, trying not to smile.
“So, do you understand why Mamma should be the one to talk to Anne about me being her baby—not you?” Rose continued in a serious tone.
“You’re not a baby, Mamma. Me neither,” Gracie replied.
“Jah, that’s true. But you will always be my little girl—even when you’re grown up with little girls of your own,” Rose explained gently. “Anne will always wonder what happened to the baby girl she gave to Mammi Lydia all those years ago. And if she finds out it’s me, she might need some quiet time to think about it without anybody else around—just like you needed time to think last night when you pulled the covers over your head.”
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