Love At Pebble Creek (Hope Chest of Dreams Book 5) Read online

  Mary arched a curious brow. “I don’t understand. How does that connect you to him?”

  Anna contemplated the question and wondered why she’d mentioned how she felt. The subject wasn’t one she really wanted to discuss. However, as Mary waited for her to continue, she decided to offer clarification.

  “I’m not in any way complaining. But as you know, my birth mamma gave me up for adoption.” She bit her lower lip. “I have wonderful parents who love me, but . . .” She offered a gentle lift of her shoulders. “I’ve always felt a little like an outsider.”

  The curious expression on Mary’s face turned to shock. Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

  When she didn’t say anything more, Anna explained. “Obviously, something happened for my biological maemm to give me away. And my parents?” Anna lifted her palms in helplessness and smiled sadly. “It’s no secret they adopted me after trying for their own children.”

  As Mary regarded her with her mouth open in surprise, Anna cleared an emotional knot from her throat. “So it’s obvious I was a second choice. That they would have preferred to have their own kinder.”

  A long, agonizing silence passed. In a softened voice, Anna finished, lifting her palms to the ceiling. “You can surely understand why I bonded with Reuben. At the cookout, he was the only child without a parent there. Besides me, of course.” Mary’s jaw dropped a notch lower. “I wonder what my life would have been like if my parents could have had their own children, and if my birth mamma had raised me.”

  Following a heavy silence, Anna tried her most logical voice. “Mary, you can surely understand my curiosity.”

  Mary spoke in a defensive tone while lifting a hand to stop her. “Whoa. I don’t believe what you just said.”

  Anna regretted this conversation, but, in a way, it felt gut to voice her thoughts. This was the first time she’d ever mentioned her adoption to anyone but Jesse, even though she’d thought about it for years.

  “Anna, do you know how hurt your parents would be if they knew you felt this way?”

  “I know, Mary. But the circumstances of me being here . . . Sometimes, I just wonder.” She lifted her shoulders in a gentle shrug. “Wouldn’t you?”

  As a bright ray of morning swept in through the window, a wave of remorse came over Anna. She should have kept her mouth shut. She hadn’t regretted what she’d said, just that she’d voiced it. Some things, although they were true, were better left unsaid. And this was definitely one of them. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to seem ungrateful to Maemm and Daed.

  Finally, Mary smiled sadly. “I never knew you felt this way, Anna. It makes me feel bad.” After a slight hesitation, she furrowed her brows in doubt. “But I understand. I guess it’s something I’ve never had to think about.”

  She fidgeted with her hands in front of her. “I mean, there’s no doubt in my mind who I would have been if my parents hadn’t raised me because they did.”

  Anna’s voice cracked with emotion. “For a moment, imagine that your mamma had let you go and that you didn’t know why. That as a kid, it was brought to your attention that your skin and your hair were darker than anyone else’s. That your parents had adopted you. Like you weren’t a real Amish person. Like I said, I’m not complaining, but be honest: Don’t you think you’d feel kind of like an outsider?”

  Mary’s glasses slipped down her nose, and she shoved them back up with her pointer finger. “Maybe. But I never realized that you were battling such serious issues, Anna. Did someone really comment about your skin? If so, that’s awful.”

  Anna gave a slow nod, and Mary didn’t ask who.

  “Then I want to help you move past this. To be honest, this comes as a complete surprise to me. In school, you were always so smart. And independent. I didn’t think you had a care in the world.”

  Anna responded eagerly. “You always offer gut advice. Old Sam left the community with a lot of wise sayings.” Anna pointed to her face and grinned. “But as far as my tanned complexion?” A laugh escaped her throat. She wasn’t sure why. “I don’t think you can change it. And I wouldn’t want to. What I always yearned for, though, is for others to accept me as I am.”

  A heavy silence went on until Mary broke it. “I wish you could talk to Old Sam about this, Anna. For some reason, I believe he could put this into perspective for you, so you’d be at ease with what happened. With being adopted, I mean.”

  “I wonder what he would have told me.”

  Mary hesitated and pressed her lips together. Finally, she lifted a brow. “I think I know.”

  “You do?”

  Mary nodded. “Once I had a conversation with him, and he said that in God’s eyes, I was a masterpiece. That He’d created everything about me to His liking. And that regrets over yesterday and worries about tomorrow are twin thieves that rob us of the moment.” Mary smiled. “He said that too many times to count.”

  Anna considered the wise words.

  Mary expelled a breath and scooted back in her chair, resting her hands on her thighs. “I’m not going to pretend to have answers to everything, my friend, but I am sure that Old Sam’s wisdom makes sense. I mean, think about it, Anna. In the whole scheme of things, we’re here to serve God. And there are a lot of things we wonder about, but we’ll just have to wait to meet Him to get the answers. But I’m sure that, even though sometimes we’re not sure of who we are, we must be certain what we’re here for. And that’s to serve our Savior, who died on the cross just for us. And when we’re in heaven, He’ll answer all our questions.”

  After letting out a breath, she went on in a softer, more serious voice. “Think of what a hard life Jesus had. Compared to what He went through, our problems seem irrelevant. The disciples had it hard, too.”

  Anna absorbed what her friend said.

  “Old Sam once said that God is there to give us strength for every hill we have to climb. That life is not a problem to be solved but a gift to be enjoyed. Just think, Anna. Both of us were so important to God that He gave His life for us.” The corners of her lips raised into a grin.

  “Of course, there’s a lot we don’t know. But compared to God’s sacrifice for us, does it really matter?”

  * * *

  That evening, Anna washed dishes while Maemm dried. As they chatted about the farm Jesse wanted, Mary’s visit, her gift to Anna, and Anna’s present to her, Anna’s heart was filled with love.

  Without thinking, Anna said, “Mary’s visit was just what I needed to cheer me up.”

  Anna was quick to note the surprise in her mother’s voice. “You needed cheering up?”

  While Anna contemplated the question, she realized that her own maemm didn’t know her well. Working twelve hours a day at the bakery was taking a toll on their relationship.

  However, the reason Anna didn’t discuss her own issues with her parents was to spare them the worry. They worked so hard. The last thing she wanted was to cause them concern.

  Her mother didn’t let the subject drop. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  While Anna turned to her maemm, she noted sincerity in her eyes. “You and Daed are so gut to me.”

  “Honey, we’re your parents. That’s what we’re here for. And Anna . . .” She took her by her shoulders and moved closer, so Anna could clearly detect concern in her mother’s clear blue eyes. Usually they were the color of the sky on a cloudless day. But this evening, Anna noted that they’d taken on a darker, more turbulent shade. The shade reminded her of a storm brewing.

  “Oh, it’s nothing you and Daed have done. It just . . . about me.” A frustrated breath escaped her. “I’m afraid I’ve been going through a sort of identity crisis.”

  Her maemm reached for her hand. “It’s time to talk.”

  Anna didn’t argue while they stepped to the living room, where Maemm motioned to the soft blue sofa. Without a word, Anna sat down. Her mother claimed the cushion next to her and turned toward her. Their knees lightly touched.

  As t
heir gazes locked, her mother spoke in a soft yet firm tone. “I want to hear about your identity crisis.” After a short pause. “Not to be nosy, but to help. Please, Anna.”

  Ashamed of herself, Anna started to lift a dismissive hand. But her mother quickly wrapped her fingers around Anna’s and narrowed her brows in concern. “Anna, I’m sorry we’ve been away so much. And we’ve left you to hold down the fort all by yourself.”

  She placed a gentle finger on the cut on Anna’s forehead and softened her voice. “If we’d been here during the storm, this might not have happened. And if you’re going through anything, I’m responsible for it.”

  Anna shook her head. “You’re not in any way to blame for my insecurities.” Anna stopped, thinking about what she’d just said. Insecurities. Was that the crux of her problem?

  When her mother continued regarding her in silence, Anna knew the best thing she could do was to be honest, as she’d been taught. Besides, there was no way out. The last thing she wanted to do was to take time away from her mother’s busy day to focus on herself, but now that they were here together, she had no choice but to voice her thoughts.

  Expelling a deep, thoughtful sigh, Anna tried for the right words. Finally, emotion overcame her, and salty tears stung her eyes. She blinked at the sting. This is not who you are. You’re strong.

  Anna cleared the uncomfortable knot from her throat and breathed in, lifting her chin a notch in forced confidence. “Lately, I’ve been questioning my role as a person. After all you and Daed have done for me, I’m embarrassed to say that I’ve been feeling like I don’t deserve you.” She lowered the pitch of her voice.

  “This doesn’t have to do with being adopted, does it?”

  After a slight hesitation, Anna nodded.

  Her maemm leaned forward and hugged her. As they embraced, Anna allowed herself to enjoy the security and comfort she so desperately needed.

  Anna’s words came out in a whisper. “It’s no secret that you and Daed tried to have your own children.”

  Her mother teared up. For a moment, Anna thought the woman next to her would cry. The expression, a combination of dismay and shock, made Anna’s chest ache.

  She had hurt her own maemm, even though that hadn’t been her intention. This conversation was Anna’s fault. How can I live with myself ?

  Anna wanted her words to come out with more logic and less emotion. “If you’d have been able to get pregnant, you and Daed wouldn’t have taken me in. And I don’t know where I would’ve ended up because my birth mother didn’t want me.”

  Her mother’s voice was firm as she came forward on her knees and claimed Anna’s arms with her hands and held them tightly. “Anna, none of that’s true. Long before we married, we talked many times about having a family. And Anna, your daed and I had always planned to adopt.” She gave a gentle lift of her shoulders. “Ever since I can remember.”

  The confession took Anna’s breath away. As she studied the sincerity in her mother’s eyes, Anna’s fingers shook while she absorbed what she’d just heard. Because she’d always believed she’d only been adopted because Maemm couldn’t give birth to her own child.

  Anna experienced an odd combination of great joy and chagrin. Joy because she’d just learned the opposite of what she’d believed for so many years. That her parents had wanted her, regardless of whether they’d had their own offspring. And chagrin that she’d obviously hurt her maemm. She hoped she could repair the undeserved sadness in the eyes that faced her.

  Anna finally broke down, and her mother embraced her. “Honey, I’m so sorry you felt that way.”

  Several moments later, Anna forced her tears to stop. A huge force of relief swept through her. With one quick motion, her maemm got up, stepped to the kitchen, pulled a tissue from the box on the countertop, and handed the Kleenex to Anna.

  As Anna dabbed at her eyes, she smiled. “You don’t know what it means to me to hear that.”

  Her mother reclaimed her seat, scooted toward the edge, and rested her palms on Anna’s thighs. “You know what they say? That something good always comes out of something bad?”

  Anna continued to blot her eyes and offered a quick nod.

  “It just happened. A painful conversation gave you the truth you needed to hear.”

  Anna leaned forward to hug her mother. As she wrapped her arms around her maemm’s neck, Anna closed her eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks for the truth. “I almost feel like a whole person.”

  Surprise danced on her mother’s irises. “Almost?”

  “While we’re having this conversation, I may as well tell you the whole story. I believed two things that ate away at me for years. The first was that I became a part of your family only because you and Daed couldn’t have your own family. And . . .”

  She hiccupped. Then she laughed. So did Maemm. “You were saying?”

  “Secondly, that my birth mamma didn’t care about me enough to keep me. Obviously, I wasn’t worthy of her love and her time.”

  A long silence followed as Anna tried to read her mother’s expression. Finally, the loving woman who’d raised her let out a long, defeated sigh. But the heavy silence between them continued to loom.

  “Anna, life is never perfect. And although your daed and I did our best, there are definitely things we could have done better. I suppose right now is the time to give you something.”

  Anna straightened and waited for her to go on.

  Tears filled Maemm’s eyes, and her voice shook slightly as she took Anna’s hands in hers and squeezed them with affection. “Honey, your birth mother loved you very much.” Moisture dampened Maemm’s eyes. When she spoke, her voice was barely more than an emotional whisper. “In fact, she left you a letter.”

  Anna’s heart nearly stopped. “Why didn’t you give it to me?”

  “Your daed and I . . . we were really never sure when to give it to you. We didn’t know if it would be better for you to read it or not to. I’m sorry, Anna, but sometimes, as parents, it’s hard to do what’s best for your children.”

  A long silence ensued before Maemm went on. “We never opened it. After we took you in, a priest looked us up and mailed it to us. He said he’d made a promise to your maemm. I can see that we should have shared it with you years ago.” She stood and smiled a little. “I’ll get it for you.”

  While the stairs creaked, Anna’s head was spinning. What she’d just found out was a lot to absorb. Her parents hadn’t adopted her simply because they couldn’t have their own children. They’d always planned it. And her birth mother had loved her and had left her a letter.

  Anna’s heart jumped with a newfound happiness and excitement. Soon, she’d read her birth mother’s own words. She took in a deep breath and pressed her palms on her thighs. She watched with great anticipation while Maemm descended the stairs, envelope in hand.

  Anna could barely contain her excitement as she took the large envelope. As she retrieved it, her fingers shook so much, she dropped it. She bent to pick it up. And as she did, she stared at the name in beautiful writing. To My Daughter. There was a hospital name and a San Diego address in the corner.

  Suddenly, so many questions flitted through Anna’s mind, she couldn’t even think. Maemm’s soft voice startled her. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

  * * *

  That evening, Jesse filled the troughs in his barn with water. When they were full, he turned off the spigot and returned the long green hose to the wall, where he continued to neatly wind it several times around the holder.

  Afterward, he proceeded to the feed bags, where he pulled the strings at the top to open them. With one deep breath, he bent to lift the oats and distributed them as evenly as he could in the long metal feeders.

  After emptying the first bag, he proceeded to do the same with the second. The sound of footsteps made him turn to the large front doors.

  “Evening, sohn.”

  “Evening, Daed.”

  As Jesse pulled a rake fro
m the wall and began moving dirty bedding into a pile, his father did the same. As they chitchatted, the rakes’ metal tips meeting concrete made a light, unpleasant sound.

  In the background, the back door of the barn was propped open, and the cattle’s moos and horses’ neighs could be heard. At Jesse’s boots, a rat stole an oat. Jesse chased him away while the family dog, Buddy, joined him with a moan for attention.

  Jesse spoke to the needy canine. “I’ll give you all the attention you deserve, boy. But first, I’ve got work to do.”

  When the mixture of rat terrier and chihuahua whined for some reason, Jesse felt the need to explain. “I make sure you’ve got a comfy bed. Don’t complain.”

  With a dissatisfied whimper, Buddy made himself comfortable on an empty bag of grain, where he put his head between his front legs and took in Jesse and his daed.

  His daed started the conversation in a low, thoughtful voice, as usual, stopping to run his fingers through his thin head of hair. In his typical stern voice, he started. “I had coffee at King’s Bakery this morning, and everyone in there was talkin’ ’bout the Norris farm goin’ up for sale. Word has it that the listing paperwork is done and it’ll be up for sale tomorrow.”

  While Jesse considered his daed’s words, the speed of the pulse on his wrist picked up. At that moment, he began imagining the land as his own. Of four horses pulling him on a platform to plant soybeans. Of coming home to a family and dinner on the table.

  When Jesse didn’t respond, his father cleared his throat. “For years, I’ve thought about how to get you a farm. Now, I’ve talked to other family members, and we’ve come up with enough money to make a serious offer.”

  He smiled widely, revealing a set of coffee-stained teeth and slapped his sohn on his shoulder. “If you get it, you can pay us back over the next ten years.”

  Jesse’s heart picked up speed to a pace that must be as fast as his horse could run. Finally, he realized his mentor was waiting for him to respond.

  Jesse grinned. “Daed, I don’t know what to say.”

  “No need to say anything yet. But I hope the farm title ends up with your name on it. And the two-story house that goes with it.”