Lydia's Hope Read Online Free

Lydia’s
     smooth, wide forehead furrowed. “She said she remembered seeing my mamm in the orchard,
     long ago, with her three little girls.” Lydia’s gaze met his. “
Three
little girls.” Her voice emphasized the number. “She was talking about my birth mother.”
    Now his frown must match hers. “Your great-aunt must have been confusing Diane with
     someone else. Sara’s been sick, and at her age it’s easy to get mixed up, ja?”
    “That’s what I told myself.” Lydia cupped her palm against her cheek in that way she
     had of comforting herself when things went wrong. “But when I repeated her words to
     Mamm, I could see in her face that what Aunt Sara said was true.”
    “True?” He struggled to get his mind around it. “But if you had sisters, for sure
     we’d know about it. How could we not have heard? I mean, your parents were living
     right here in this house when they died. Everybody would have known.”
    “They knew.” Lydia’s voice hardened in a way he’d never heard before, and he’d have
     said he was familiar with every tone of it. “They knew, and they kept it a secret.”
    He realized what must have happened, and his heart hurt for her. “Your sisters died?”
     His voice filled with sympathy. “Is that it?”
    He and Lydia had talked about the accident. Her parents had died, and people said
     Lydia was lucky to survive, and that losing her memory of everything that had gone
     before the accident was a small price to pay for having lived.
    “No. They didn’t die.” Her voice was sharp with pain. “Maybe I could understand better
     if they had. But they survived the accident—two little sisters, and each of them was
     adopted by someone different. The family parceled us out to different people like . . .
     like leftovers.” Her hands clenched into fists.
    Somehow that gesture, so foreign to his gentle, loving Lydia, galvanized him. He crossed
     the small space between them, taking her hands in his. “There must be a reason for
     such an action. What did your mamm say?”
    “She wanted me to wait until Daad came home. She kept saying he could explain it so
     I’d understand. But how can I ever understand something like this?” Her eyes filled
     with tears again, and Adam moved quickly to put his arms around her.
    “It will be all right.” The words sounded worse than useless, and he longed to have
     something better to offer her. “They must have meant it for the best. You’ll see.
     We’ll sit down and talk to your mamm and daad together, and they’ll tell us everything.
     You’ll see.”
    Even as he said the words, he wondered. Clearly there was more going on than any of
     their generation had been told. Something had happened . . . something so serious
     that not just the family but the whole church had decided to keep it a secret. He
     couldn’t begin to imagine what it could be.
    One thing was certain. He couldn’t burden Lydia further at a time like this by telling
     her about losing his job. That news would have to wait.
    He held her close, murmuring soothing nothings, just as she would do with the kinder
     when they’d suffered some hurt. How had their peaceful lives unraveled so suddenly
     and so completely? And how were they going to find the faith to accept all of this
     trouble as God’s will?
    * * *
    Lydia wasn’t surprised when she heard a carriage rolling up the lane not half an hour after
     she’d settled Daniel and David in bed. She’d known Mamm and Daad would come to talk
     to her again, and it would be after the kinder were asleep for a matter so painful.
    She rose, brushing a slight dusting of flour from her black apron, and exchanged glances
     with Adam. With two rambunctious boys around, they hadn’t yet had much space for a
     quiet talk. Still, she hung on to the sensation of his arms around her as she headed
     for the door.
    “That’ll be Mamm and Daad.”
    “Ja.” Adam followed her, maybe thinking she needed his support.