Lydia's Hope by Marta Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

head. “I can’t say I did. Your folks would know more than I would.
     Or your great-aunt Sara, maybe.”
    She was obviously wondering why Lydia had brought her questions to her.
    “It hurts Mamm to talk about it,” Lydia said, knowing she was being evasive. Still,
     that was true enough, wasn’t it?
    “Well, then, it’s clear what you should do,” Paula said as if she had no doubts. “Bishop
     Mose is the person to see, ain’t so?”
    * * *
    So, in the end, Lydia went where the Amish of Pleasant Valley always did when in trouble—to
     the harness shop run by Bishop Mose. Over the years he had become more than a spiritual
     leader. He knew and cared for every member of his flock, and even the most rebellious
     teen usually responded with love and respect to his counsel.
    The harness shop shouldn’t be busy at this hour of the morning. Leaving Gray tied
     to the hitching rail beside the bakery, Lydia walked down Main Street toward the bishop’s
     place of business.
    The small village of Pleasant Valley stretched along either side of the main road.
     A mix of Englisch, Amish, horse-and-buggy Mennonites, and the more progressive black-bumper
     Mennonites, the town managed to thrive despite, or maybe because of, its varied population.
    Lydia spotted Katie Brand sweeping the sidewalk in front of the quilt shop and waved.
     Much as she’d love a visit with Katie, Katie was too young to provide information,
     besides being a newcomer to Pleasant Valley.
    When she reached the harness shop, Lydia hesitated with her hand on the door. Bishop
     Mose had put up a new cardboard sign, she saw. NO PHOTOGRAPHS, PLEASE. Sometimes tourists were either ignorant or disrespectful of the Amish ban against
     having photographs of themselves.
    But enough dithering on the doorstep. Mustering her courage, she went inside, the
     tinny chime of the bell on the door announcing her arrival. The shop was empty save
     for the bishop himself, seated at the workbench in the rear. He glanced up, peering
     at her over the glasses he’d taken to wearing when he did close work on a harness.
    “Ach, it is Lydia. I thought I might see you today.” He put aside the leather he was
     working on and rose, wiping his hands on the heavy apron he wore in the shop.
    “You did?” Lydia went toward him, passing rows of bridles and harnesses, the rich
     scents of leather and oil announcing where she was.
    “Your daad stopped by for a talk.” Bishop Mose gestured her into the work area and
     pulled out one of the stools. “Komm. Sit down. This has been a shock to you, ain’t
     so?”
    She nodded, accepting the seat. Maybe she should have guessed that Daad would have
     already consulted the bishop, but it hadn’t occurred to her. Obviously, since Bishop
     Mose had been one of those who went to Ohio in the wake of the accident, he knew all
     about what had happened to her family.
    The tiny flare of anger she felt at the thought was extinguished by his kind, knowing
     gaze. “I don’t understand how everyone could keep it a secret from me all these years.
     I’d have said nobody could succeed in keeping a secret in Pleasant Valley.”
    “Ja, folks do talk a lot.” His blue eyes twinkled. “Maybe that’s why the Lord leads
     me so often to gossip for a sermon topic.”
    “How, then—”
    He shrugged. “In this case, by the time you came home from the hospital, the immediate
     interest had died away. Folks were told only that the younger girls had been taken
     by other family members, and by the time you were old enough to understand a careless
     remark, most folks had half forgotten that you hadn’t been born to Joseph and Anna.”
    Lydia turned his words over in her mind, realizing, now that the initial shock had
     worn off, she could more easily imagine how it had happened. “Maybe the fact of the
     accident taking place so far away made a difference, too.” People had heard about
     it but they had not been able to jump into helping right