The room got quiet, except for the whirring of the fans. It seemed obvious that her grandfather wasn’t going to offer up any excuse for his behavior, so the bishop went on.
“In the prayer our Lord taught us, He tells us to ask for our daily bread and to not be led into temptation, and to be spared the evils of this world,” Tom recounted in a quiet but firm voice. “And when it comes to askin’ the Lord’s forgiveness, we agree to do likewise—to forgive the folks who’ve done us wrong. It’s the
only thing
we’re expected to do in return for God givin’ us the rest of the benefits outlined in His prayer.”
Dawdi’s face was growing ruddy, but he appeared more contrary than contrite. “Let’s hear the rest of the story, so we can place the blame where it belongs,” he said gruffly. He leaned forward to look around Mammi, focusing on Nora. “Back when I asked who got ya in the family way, ya refused to tell me—which was the main reason I sent ya packin’. Ya defied me, Nora, and ya gave me no way to demand that the boy take any responsibility.”
Nora’s expression turned grim. “I haven’t told a soul to this day—mainly because the
man
in question informed me that I’d go straight to hell if I revealed his identity,” she said in very small voice. “I was naive enough—terrified enough—to believe him at the time. But he’s dead now, so it does me no good to keep his secret any longer. It was . . . the bishop of Morning Star.”
“
What?
” Dawdi blurted. “Don’t think for a minute I’ll believe that Jeremiah Shetler—”
“No, back then Tobias Borntreger was the bishop,” Tom pointed out with a frown. “Jeremiah was a preacher, just like you and I were.”
“And ya expect me to go along with
that
?” Dawdi retorted. “ Tobias was a
gut
friend of mine, and a devout man of the faith! He would no more have touched Nora than—”
“See there?” Nora blurted, throwing up her hands. “You don’t believe me now, and you certainly wouldn’t have believed me when I was sixteen—which was
exactly
what Tobias was counting on.”
Everyone in the front room sat wide-eyed, as though the air had been sucked out of them. Nora slumped in her chair, shaken from the strain of her revelation. Lizzie’s hand fluttered to her mouth, while Mammi’s face fell and she fished a handkerchief from her apron pocket.
“Did this happen while ya were helpin’ at the Borntreger place?” Mammi asked in a voice they could barely hear. “That was the summer Tobias’s wife was laid up with a broken leg, and in the family way, too, as I recall.”
“It did, Mamma,” Nora whispered. “More than once. I—I didn’t know what to do. Tobias insisted that God had brought me there to be helpful, and that I wasn’t to say anything to you or Dat, because if I did, he’d deny it. He said I’d go to hell for disobeyin’ him, too.”
“Oh, you poor dear girl.” Mammi rose from her chair to stand behind Nora, hugging her shoulders. “I am so sorry. All these years wasted.”
“Tobias made some inappropriate remarks to me a time or two.” Lizzie grimaced as though the bishop’s name tasted bad when she said it. “But I was married, and old enough to brush him off—”
“You were imaginin’ things,” Atlee interrupted with a roll of his eyes. “And it was me who drove Nora over to work at the Borntreger place, and I picked her up at the end of the day.
I
never noticed anything was goin’ on—”
“You were clueless,” Nora replied with a sigh. She patted Mammi’s skinny arms, wrapped around her shoulders, as Mammi remained behind her chair. “You were so engrossed in your auctioneering work, proving yourself to Lizzie’s
dat
, it was only an annoyance to you when I cried all the way home.”
“You’re
still
clueless,” Lizzie muttered. “And at that age, Nora was innocent and sheltered and had no idea what to do when a man in authority—a man she was supposed to
trust and obey
—took advantage of her. I’m sorry, Nora,” she added as she shook her head sorrowfully. “I had no idea. This changes the way we all see—”
“No,” Dawdi insisted. “It’s Nora’s word against a dead man’s. She’s been tryin’ for your sympathy, and she’s got it.” He rose unsteadily, grasping the arm of the loveseat to boost himself up. “I’ve had all of this nonsense I can stomach. We’re headin’ home, Wilma.”
“Run along,” came Mammi’s reply.
Millie’s mouth dropped open. Once again the room got very quiet, and the fans seemed useless against the stifling heat of this confrontation. Mammi’s tone wasn’t sarcastic or defiant, but Dawdi wasn’t accustomed to his wife disobeying him. Her grandfather began to shuffle the length of Bishop Tom’s front room, muttering under his breath as he put a hand to the curve of his back.
It was startling, the way Dawdi’s posture and attitude had declined nearly as much as Mammi’s had improved these past few days. Millie didn’t feel compelled to assist him. It seemed clear that he’d brought this whole situation on himself before she was even born. Millie sensed Nora had a few more secrets up her sleeve—revelations that might affect her future. So she sat tight.
“Well, it’s obvious Dat’s not gonna make it home by himself,” Atlee snapped as he stood up. Glaring at Millie and Lizzie and then at Mammi, who still clung to Nora, he strode across the room and took his father’s arm. Everyone remained silent until the two men had gone out the door and were clumping down the wooden porch stairs.
“Is it my imagination, or did a black Cadillac just pull away from the Riehl’s lane next door?” Nazareth murmured.
Lifting a sleepy-eyed Ella to her shoulder, Millie stood up to gaze out the picture window behind Nora and Mammi. “
Jah
, there he goes,” she confirmed. “Do ya suppose Hiram was eavesdroppin’ at one of the windows and then slipped away when he knew Dawdi was leavin’?”
Nora let out an exasperated sigh. “Why wouldn’t that surprise me? From what I’ve seen of Hiram since I bought his house, he’s an even sneakier snake than Tobias was,” she muttered. “That pointed black goatee just
fits
him—but here I go, passing judgment.” She paused, shaking her head. “I’m sure folks here in Willow Ridge have had similar thoughts about the way I was dressed when I arrived, not to mention about the car I drive.”
Bishop Tom’s expression remained solemn as he considered what had just happened. “We’ll ask the Lord to oversee our dealings with Hiram,” he said as Nazareth poured refills of lemonade. “And I’m trustin’ Him to guide my words as I keep talkin’ to Gabe and Atlee. I’m truly concerned that Gabe might still have this burden on his soul when he goes to meet his Maker. It’s hardened his heart for far too long.”
“But in spite of his orders, Nora’s come home,” Mammi declared. She squeezed Nora’s shoulders one more time before she sat down on the loveseat. “Seems to me we should be countin’ our blessings today, rather than allowin’ Gabe’s stubbornness to diminish our joy. In learnin’ the truth about the past, we’ve seen how God’s been with Nora all along, guidin’ her back to Willow Ridge. Praise His holy name!”
“Amen to that,” Nazareth murmured as she started the cookie plate around.
Millie resumed her seat, amazed at how her grandmother was speaking out. Wilma Glick was known for being the reserved wife of a preacher, not physically well, yet she was glowing as she gazed at everyone around her. When Lizzie held the treats in front of her, Millie chose a frosted sugar cookie to share with Ella.
After she’d passed the tray back to Nazareth, Lizzie reached for Millie’s shoulder. “These past few days have been hard for ya, Millie. But do ya recall how, through the years, I’ve said ya were such a blessing to me?” Lizzie’s eyes shone with tears. “With each time I miscarried, and with both stillborn wee ones we laid to rest,
you
were the reason I gathered myself together again and found the strength to go on. I considered ya a gift from God even more than ya were a gift from Nora.”
Millie blinked rapidly, glad she had Ella in her lap as a distraction. “
Jah
, you’ve always said that.”
Lizzie let out a shuddery breath. “Without you in my life, my days would’ve been sad and empty. I know you’re upset because I kept the truth about Nora from ya, but I
wanted
ya to be my daughter, Millie. I always will.”
The breath rushed from Millie’s lungs. She hugged Ella fiercely, trying not to cry—trying not to let Lizzie’s heartfelt words penetrate the emotional defenses she’d put up. But her heart could no longer shut out the love this quiet, caring woman had always shown her. Millie blotted her wet cheeks on her sleeve. “
Jah
, I know that, too,” she murmured.
“It’s not my intention to come between the two of you, either,” Nora spoke up. “I know you’ll never love me the way you do Lizzie, because in every way that matters, she’s your
mamm
, Millie.”
When Nora crossed the room to stand before her, Millie looked up at her. She saw the face of the woman she would someday become . . . the trembling chin and wide hazel eyes of the girl who had given birth to her and then given her to Atlee and Lizzie Glick—not as a careless, trifling act, but as the sacrifice that would allow both of them to live stronger lives.
“I’m sorry my return has caused so much upheaval,” Nora went on. She stroked Ella’s cheek, gazing at each of them in the room. “I knew it would be tough for all of us at first, but I had faith that once the initial pain passed, we could make our peace and figure out how we fit into each other’s lives. I’ve come to realize that I need this family every bit as much as you do, Millie. I’m so glad I got back to Willow Ridge to make amends before your
mammi
was no longer with us.”
When Nora gently squeezed her shoulder, Millie felt a confident strength—a determination that seemed to run in the Glick family. She’d always considered this trait as stubbornness in Dawdi and her
dat
, but Millie felt that for her
mamm
and Mammi this tenacity fed the faith that had seen them through disappointments and heartaches—which had often been the result of their men’s refusal to see anyone’s viewpoint but their own.
Millie still had a lot of feelings to sort out, but the warmth and commitment she felt in this group of women seemed strong and right. Her emotions had undergone a radical change, coming almost full circle in the last hour. When Ella giggled, Millie fed her another chunk of the sugar cookie.
“Maybe this is a good time to clear up another potential misconception,” Nora began as she returned to her chair. “Tom and I talked yesterday about what I plan to do here in Willow Ridge. He has generously agreed that the big barn on my place would make a good consignment store for crafts and handmade items produced by Plain folks around the area.”
“Oh!” Lizzie said. “I’ve wondered what would become of Hiram’s huge horse barn—”
“That seems like a real
gut
idea,” Nazareth chimed in cheerfully. “I’ve not seen any sort of shop for handcrafted gifts around this area.”
“You need to know,” Nora continued in a determined tone, “that while Bishop Tom was admiring the hangings I’ve made to sell in the shop, he told me I’d have to choose my faith and operate my store accordingly. I’ve thought about what he said, and he’s right. A lot of people in this town will consider my dimensional fabric pieces
art
.”
Nora paused to allow everyone to absorb what she’d just said. Millie fed her sister another bit of cookie, intrigued by Nora’s statement that she was an
artist
. She wasn’t minimizing her talent or trying to pass it off as acceptable to folks like Dawdi and Dat, either. What did that mean?
“I hope you’ll understand that after a lot of prayer and soul-searching,” Nora continued in a lower voice, “I’ve decided that joining the Old Order isn’t right for me. Even though, technically, I wasn’t shunned, I’m a poster child for the way shutting folks out can shatter families—”
“I can see why you’d feel that way,” Nazareth remarked.
“—and I believe that God allowed me to develop my artistic talents so I could support myself,” Nora continued. “So thank you, Tom, for insisting that I commit one way or the other, without waffling or making excuses.”
“I respect your comin’ out and sayin’ that.” Tom’s smile hinted at disappointment, but he nodded. “That means your family’ll have to decide how they’ll handle your choice, but I think it was the right one for ya.”
“So what’ll ya
be
then, Nora?” Mammi asked. “When I saw ya in a solid-colored cape dress, I figured—”
“I made a few Plain dresses before I came, out of respect for the way you raised me, Mamma,” Nora replied, reaching for her hand. “And I’ve adjusted to living in a house that’s not electrified. And I’ll probably put my car up for sale soon.”
“You’re goin’ back to a horse-drawn rig?” Millie blurted. Wouldn’t
that
take Ira and Luke by surprise?
Nora chuckled, her eyes lighting up. “I don’t know yet. I might trade the convertible for something more practical, with room to haul merchandise for the store,” she said. Then she turned to Mammi again. “I’m thinking to become a Mennonite, Mamma, like the Schrocks who run the quilting shop. Can you accept that?”
Lizzie chuckled. “It’s Mary Schrock’s husband that Atlee’s partnered with all these years, ya know. Mennonites are just as committed to their faith—and to the same God—as we are. They’re
gut
people.”
Mammi looked a little perplexed. “After all these years of wonderin’ what’s become of ya, I can adjust my thinkin’ if ya choose Mennonite ways over ours. But I doubt your
dat
will accept it.”
“That’s how I see it, too.” Nora sighed, but then she shrugged. “Dat will be Dat, and I can’t change that. I can only follow what I believe God’s telling me to do.”
The room went quiet, with only the soft whirring of the fans. Bishop Tom’s ice rattled in his empty glass when he set it down. “I feel we’ve accomplished a lot, talkin’ these things out amongst ourselves,” he remarked. “If ya feel the need to meet this way again, let me know. You’re all welcome in my home anytime.”