Heritage of Lancaster County 02 The Confession by Unknown Read Free Book Online Page B

Stoltzfus
    P.S. Please forgive me for not using your "new" name-- Katherine. For some reason or other, I just can't seem to think of you with a fancy name like that. You'll always be Katie to me.
    Mary put down her pen and reread the words, glancing over her shoulder. Quickly, she addressed the envelope, copying the Millers' address, then licked the seal, pressed it shut, and ran outside to slide it into the large metal mailbox. She'd timed her letter just right, it seemed, for here came the mail carrier down the long, snowy lane.
    Mary smiled to herself, knowing full well she'd be reprimanded for this deed if caught. But how could that happen
    with the mail getting picked up right this minute? "Good mornin', miss," the postman greeted her. "Hullo," she replied, her eyes downcast.
    "Have a good day, now." He took her letter and placed the Stoltzfus mail in her outstretched hand. With a flick, he pushed down the red flag and was on his way.
    "Denki," she called. Then in a whisper--"And thank you for takin' my letter to dear Katie."
    58
    Sleet fell on Hickory Hollow later in the day. It pitty- patted on the snowy birdbath behind the screened-in back porch of the Millers' house and on the windowpanes out front.
    Twenty-four hours had come and gone since Katherine had braved repeated calls to the operators in northern New York. She sat in the corner window of her rented room and watched the weather worsen.
    The gloom outdoors matched her mood, and she was thankful for the warm house. In spite of all she could do to ignore the dismal sky and bleak, raw day, the darkness pushed in upon her. Why hadn't her natural mother returned the call? she wondered. What was keeping her?
    A troubling thought haunted her. What if Laura's husband hadn't given his wife the message? He'd seemed a bit reluctant, she remembered. And his voice had sounded so very.., cold. Like an icicle.
    Was that the reason she distrusted him?
    Katherine decided, right then and there, she'd best be talking things over with Peter and Lydia just as soon as they returned.
    Meanwhile, she went downstairs to the kitchen and set a pot of broth on to simmer, adding potatoes, carrots, celery, and other vegetables and seasonings. Next, she gathered the ingredients to make whoopie pies--one of her favorite Amish desserts. Wouldn't Lydia be surprised?
    More than anything, Katherine wanted to help out. She missed working alongside her mamma, but she knew she daresn't dwell on that subject much or else she'd be of no use to anyone. Memories of her life with Samuel and Rebecca Lapp brought certain tears all too often. Dear, dear Mamma and Dat--how she missed them!
    If it hadn't been for Lydia and Peter, she figured by now
    59 she might've gone wiedich--mad! What with missing her family and her dearest friend, she felt disabled at times, like someone with a crippling disease. Especially when she thought about getting on a bus and heading for that strange- sounding city--Canandaigua.
    Oh, she could see herself storming the door of the Bennett estate--but only in her mind. When it came to actually going there, knowing she would be seeing her birth mother face-to-face, well, that was the part that scared her, but good.
    Still, something deep inside, something probably connected hard and fast to Laura Mayfield-Bennett, pushed her onward, giving her the pluck to do what she knew she must do.
    So in the middle of salting and peppering the stew, Katherine decided she would allow one more day, and at the most two, for a long-distance call to come in. If she heard nothing back from Laura after that time, she'd consider using some of her former dowry money to take a bus and head north.
    After a whole day and a half, Katherine had not received a single telephone call. "What do ya think I should do?" she asked Cousin Peter at breakfast.
    "Well, if 'twas me, I'd probably head right on up there," he spouted off.
    Lydia patted his hand, smiling. "But Katie... er, Katherine's not you, honey. She's a