Restless Hearts. Marta Perry

Flanagans, my father’s relatives. I didn’t have any ulterior motives, and I certainly have no desire to intrude on my mother’s family.”

      “Why not?” He shot the question at her. “You admit you came to get to know your father’s family. Why not your mother’s?”

      Her lips tightened into a firm line. She was probably thinking this wasn’t his business, but he intended to know the truth if he had to stand here all night.

      “Because they rejected her.” The words burst out of her. “My mother. They turned away from her because she married an outsider. Why would I want a relationship with them now? They haven’t bothered about me all these years.”

      “That’s not how it was.” He remembered all he’d heard, all he’d known. “She’s the one who left. She deserted them, not the other way around, and they’ve never recovered from that.”

      “How do you know so much about it?” Suspicion edged her tone.

      Emma had only been three when her sister left, but she’d remembered how her mother had aged overnight, how all the happiness seemed to go out of the house with Hannah. And he remembered how she’d cried in his arms when she’d told him she couldn’t do the same thing to her parents that her sister had done.

      He stiffened. Some things Fiona didn’t have the right to know, especially that.

      “It’s a small community,” he said. “I don’t think you realize how small. I’ve been a friend of the family for a long time. I know how much the Stolzfus family grieved when Hannah left. I don’t want to see them hurt again.”

      “I don’t want to hurt them. I don’t want to have anything to do with them.” She thrust her hands through her reddish-blond mane as if she’d pull it out in her frustration. “Can’t you just accept that?”

      He watched her steadily, trying to read the truth in those gray eyes. Did she really believe what she was saying?

      “No,” he said slowly. “I can’t accept that. How can I, when all of your actions have brought you to a place where you’re bound to run into them? You say it’s not intentional, and maybe that’s so. But the results are the same, and people I care about are already hurting as a result.”

      “I’m sorry.” She stood very straight, facing him, her face pale and set. “Sorry if this hurts them, and sorry you don’t believe me. But they rejected my mother, and—”

      “Will you stop saying that?” He took a step toward her, as if his very nearness might convince her to believe him. “They did not turn her away.”

      Her face was like stone. “I read about the Amish, once I was old enough to understand that’s what my mother had been. I read about how they shun people who don’t do what they’re supposed to.”

      “That proves the old saying, doesn’t it?” He sighed in frustration. Did he have to give the woman a crash course in what it meant to be Amish? “‘A little learning is a dangerous thing.’ It’s true that someone might be separated from the congregation to help him see the error of his ways, but that doesn’t apply in this case.”

      “What do you mean?” Doubt flickered in her face.

      “Hannah was seventeen when she left, not yet a baptized member of the church, so she didn’t break any vows by what she did. I’m sure her parents didn’t approve of her choice, but if she’d stayed, they would have made peace with it. They never had the chance. If she’d come back, anytime, they probably would have welcomed her.”

      Fiona shook her head stubbornly. “How can you say that? They never attempted to get in touch with her after she left. And after she died, they never tried to find me. My whole life, I’ve never heard a word from them.”

      Her pain reached out and grabbed his heart, and for a moment he couldn’t speak. The urge to comfort her was so strong he had to fight it back. He could pity her, yes, but his loyalties lay elsewhere.

      “Fiona, what makes you think they knew you existed?”

      He saw that hit her, saw the doubt and pain in her eyes, and thought he’d be a long time regretting that he’d put it there. But it had to be done. This was a bad situation, and an impulsive act on her part could make it even worse.

      He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “Could be you think I’m interfering, and maybe I am. But the best thing you can do now is to stay away from the family. You don’t begin to understand them, and you can’t judge them by your California standards. Just leave them alone, before you cause each other more pain than you can bear.”

      Chapter Four

      Twenty-four hours had passed since that difficult confrontation with Ted, and Fiona still hadn’t shaken off the feelings it had brought on. She dried the few dishes that sat in the dish drainer, glancing out the kitchen window as she did so.

      It was dusk already. Yellow light glowed from the windows of the few houses behind hers, partially obscured by the trees, looking distant and lonely. If she’d been looking for privacy when she came here, she’d certainly found it.

      In more ways than one, it seemed. The carpenters hadn’t turned up again today, and when she’d gone to the store to speak to Ruth about it, she found that the quilters were missing as well.

      Ruth had been sympathetic, but her only advice had been to be patient. Sooner or later, the situation would resolve itself. Until then, there was no point in pressing.

      She could admire the older woman’s patience, but not emulate it. The need to get on with things drove her to pace across the kitchen and back again.

      Lord, I don’t know what to do. Was Ted right about me? Did I really come here because I wanted to be accepted by my mother’s family? If so, it looks as if Your answer to that is no. Please, guide me now.

      She blinked back unaccustomed tears, appalled at herself. There was little point in crying over something that had been over and done with before she was born. She couldn’t influence it now.

      “And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”

      The verse from Romans had always resonated in her heart, but how did she even know that God had called her here? She’d told herself she was following God’s leading for her life when she’d made the decision, but if Ted was right about her, maybe she’d only been following her own unconscious desires.

      She hung the dish towel on the wooden rack, aligning it as neatly as if that were the most important thing in the world right now. Well, maybe not important, but at least it was something she could control, unlike everything else that had happened lately.

      A noise from the unpaved drive that ran behind the house startled her, sending her pulse beating a little more rapidly. Someone was there, but she didn’t expect anyone. She went quickly to the door, pulling aside the lace curtain that screened the glass panel so she could peer out.

      If a UFO had landed, she couldn’t have been more surprised. An Amish buggy had pulled up next to the back step. The horse dropped its head to nibble at the sparse grass. A slim girl in a black cape slid down, turning to say something to the person who held the reins. In a moment he was down, too, and both of them headed toward the door.

      They stepped into the pool of light from the lamp above the door. Young, both of them, probably not more than sixteen. She’d never seen either of them before.

      She took a breath. If the Amish community intended to tell her to leave, they certainly wouldn’t send two teenagers. She opened the door.

      “Hello. I’m Fiona Flanagan. Are you looking for me?”

      “Yes, we come to see you.” The girl, who apparently was the spokesperson, gave a short nod, her dark bonnet bobbing. She had a pretty, heart-shaped face, a pert, turned-up nose and a pair of lively blue eyes. “I am