The Telling by Beverly Lewis Read Free Book Online Page A

and Judah’s. She’d experienced the same delight when first holding each of them, welcoming sweet Grace and, later, darling Mandy, then pudgy little Joe into the world.
    “Mrs. Byler?” the receptionist said as she came back on the line. “We can squeeze you in tomorrow morning at nine-thirty.”
    “I’ll take it,” Lettie agreed. “Denki ever so much.” She hung up the phone and turned to also thank Lana, Hallie’s English neighbor, who sat on the sofa with her small portable computer balanced on her lap. “I appreciate the use of your telephone.”
    “Oh, that’s fine. You know where we are,” Lana said, glancing up at her, then quickly back at the screen.
    Lettie’s thoughts raced ahead to the consultation tomorrow. “All right, then.” She headed to the screen door, careful not to let it slap against the frame. Yet as she strolled back to Hallie’s, she was uncomfortably aware that Lana had been sitting near enough to overhear her side of the frustrating conversation. Ach, I hope not.
    Lettie followed the narrow path and saw a cardinal’s red colors flutter past her. She hoped this trip wouldn’t turn out to be a dead end. She was emotionally spent and more than sorry for what she’d done to her family – nearly too ashamed to return home, although she longed to. Truly, she had no idea how to go about returning. Judah was a meek and mild-mannered man, but she wasn’t so grossfiehlich – bigheaded – as to think she could simply walk back into his life, and their children’s. Not after her unexplained absence.
    There was another matter, too. The ministerial brethren would undoubtedly ask for Lettie’s repentance... which would likely have to be offered before the church membership. Oh, dear Judah would have to endure her confession, as would Adam and Grace and Mandy, since they’d already joined church. No, it would not be easy returning to Bird-in-Hand.

seven
    Grace sat at Susan’s table with her eyes closed, waiting for the hospitable woman to finish making her strawberry slush. “It’s sure to perk you up,”Susan said cheerfully from across the kitchen.
    While she waited for Heather to return, Grace had managed to use the remote control on the key chain Heather had left behind on the front room table. She’d carried Heather’s bags, and her own, in from the trunk and upstairs to each of two guest bedrooms. It seemed so strange, as she thought of it, that Mamma had sat at this very table... and most likely slept in the bed where Grace would sleep tonight. And the more she considered her mother’s speedy departure yesterday, the more she suspected there must have been a reason to hurry up and leave. Like she rushed off in the wee hours from home.
    She raised her head to see Susan bringing small glasses of the icy fruit slush to the table. “Mmm, looks delicious.”
    “Oh, you’ll enjoy this.” Susan set the glass before Grace, then pulled out a chair to the right of the head of the table. She glanced at the empty spot and mentioned how her deceased husband had always sat there. “I decided to keep it empty in his honor after he died.”
    Grace thought this was one of the sweetest things she’d ever heard. “Did ya tell Mamma this?”
    Susan smiled and reached for her own glass. “Oh jah. I’ll say your Mamma’s quite tenderhearted.”
    “That she is.” Grace sipped the strawberry slush. “Your berries must be early this year.”
    “They’re nearly done, in fact.”
    “Ours back home aren’t quite ready yet,” she said, wondering where on earth Heather had disappeared to.
    The simple kitchen was light and cheerful, reminding Grace of home in so many ways. The yellowed pine cabinets stood in a neat row above the scarred and worn counter below. Several pies were set out, cooling on the rack, their crusts crimped down evenly around the edges.
    “Was Mamma sad while she was here?” Grace asked quietly.
    “Mostly apprehensive, I’d say.”
    Grace bowed her head. “I