Read Online Harvest of Blessings by Charlotte Hubbard - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charlotte Hubbard
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tried to grasp her hand.
“I’m your mother, Millie,” the woman replied in a breathless voice. “I’m sorry we got off to a rough start. I never intended to hurt—”
“ You got off to a bad start!” Millie retorted. “I was minding my own business, taking care of my grandparents and—”
“Thank you for doing that. I admire you for giving up your rumspringa ,” the woman continued in a voice that hitched a time or two. “It should’ve been me taking care of them in their old age.”
“So why didn’t you?” Millie demanded.
The stranger sighed. She was still standing behind Millie, not touching her but so close that the heat of their bodies mingled. “Your grandfather ordered me out of the house when we learned you were on the way,” she murmured. “He said I was evil. Told me never to come back again.”
Millie winced. She had no trouble believing that stern, stoic Dawdi had said such awful things, but she wouldn’t give this stranger a moment’s sympathy. “So why did you?”
“I—I wanted to make amends. Wanted to ask forgiveness, especially of you , Millie, because I was hoping we could be together. Not a day has gone by that I didn’t think of you, or wish I’d done things differently.”
Millie pivoted. “So ya bought Hiram’s house? And ya came here with your shiny red car and your English clothes, thinkin’ that would make everything right with me?” she demanded shrilly. “Let me tell ya somethin’, lady. Lizzie Glick is my mamm , and she would never ever do those things to make me love her. Leave me alone! Get out of my life!”
With no idea of where she might go, Millie took off across the Lantz orchard. She passed beside the big white house where Miriam’s daughter Rachel and her husband, Micah Brenneman, now lived, then curved left at the pasture where Dan Kanagy’s sheep watched her through the fence as they chewed their grass. She kept going, past the new house Seth Brenneman was building for Mary Kauffman and her kids, without really seeing any of these things through her tears.
Except for Mary, who was new in town, did all of these neighbors know that Atlee and Lizzie Glick weren’t her birth parents? Did they remember that Nora woman from when she’d lived here, and recall the reason she’d left town? Why didn’t anybody tell me the truth? I’ve trusted everyone in town—especially the people I believed were my parents—only to find out they’ve been keeping a huge secret about who I really am.
“Liars,” Millie muttered as she continued past Bishop Tom’s dairy farm and onto the gravel road. Every last one of them’s a liar—my grandparents, the bishop, Miriam, Mamm and Dat. It would serve them right if they all went to hell for their lies!
Blinded by tears, she stopped where the road forked. One path led around in a circle that defined the edge of Willow Ridge and then ran in front of the Wagler place and Bishop’s Ridge to the Hooleys’ new mill, while the other path led toward home and eventually to Morning Star and Higher Ground. But is that really home now? How can ya face those people again, knowing they’re not really your parents ? Knowing they’ve kept the truth from ya for your entire life?
For a brief moment, it comforted Millie to realize that Atlee Glick wasn’t her father. He was a difficult man, with a chip on his shoulder and a short fuse. She had his red hair and freckles, but he was actually her uncle.
No, you got your looks from that Nora woman. Who was your father, really ?
Millie mopped her face with her apron. So many questions overwhelmed her that she couldn’t think straight. She didn’t want to return to her grandparents’ place, because Dawdi would be in a foul mood and Mammi would be upset—and they had kept the truth from her, too. And she certainly didn’t want to deal with Mamm— um, Aunt Lizzie? —even though she’d had the decency to look upset yesterday when she’d heard Nora had returned. And
“I’m your mother, Millie,” the woman replied in a breathless voice. “I’m sorry we got off to a rough start. I never intended to hurt—”
“ You got off to a bad start!” Millie retorted. “I was minding my own business, taking care of my grandparents and—”
“Thank you for doing that. I admire you for giving up your rumspringa ,” the woman continued in a voice that hitched a time or two. “It should’ve been me taking care of them in their old age.”
“So why didn’t you?” Millie demanded.
The stranger sighed. She was still standing behind Millie, not touching her but so close that the heat of their bodies mingled. “Your grandfather ordered me out of the house when we learned you were on the way,” she murmured. “He said I was evil. Told me never to come back again.”
Millie winced. She had no trouble believing that stern, stoic Dawdi had said such awful things, but she wouldn’t give this stranger a moment’s sympathy. “So why did you?”
“I—I wanted to make amends. Wanted to ask forgiveness, especially of you , Millie, because I was hoping we could be together. Not a day has gone by that I didn’t think of you, or wish I’d done things differently.”
Millie pivoted. “So ya bought Hiram’s house? And ya came here with your shiny red car and your English clothes, thinkin’ that would make everything right with me?” she demanded shrilly. “Let me tell ya somethin’, lady. Lizzie Glick is my mamm , and she would never ever do those things to make me love her. Leave me alone! Get out of my life!”
With no idea of where she might go, Millie took off across the Lantz orchard. She passed beside the big white house where Miriam’s daughter Rachel and her husband, Micah Brenneman, now lived, then curved left at the pasture where Dan Kanagy’s sheep watched her through the fence as they chewed their grass. She kept going, past the new house Seth Brenneman was building for Mary Kauffman and her kids, without really seeing any of these things through her tears.
Except for Mary, who was new in town, did all of these neighbors know that Atlee and Lizzie Glick weren’t her birth parents? Did they remember that Nora woman from when she’d lived here, and recall the reason she’d left town? Why didn’t anybody tell me the truth? I’ve trusted everyone in town—especially the people I believed were my parents—only to find out they’ve been keeping a huge secret about who I really am.
“Liars,” Millie muttered as she continued past Bishop Tom’s dairy farm and onto the gravel road. Every last one of them’s a liar—my grandparents, the bishop, Miriam, Mamm and Dat. It would serve them right if they all went to hell for their lies!
Blinded by tears, she stopped where the road forked. One path led around in a circle that defined the edge of Willow Ridge and then ran in front of the Wagler place and Bishop’s Ridge to the Hooleys’ new mill, while the other path led toward home and eventually to Morning Star and Higher Ground. But is that really home now? How can ya face those people again, knowing they’re not really your parents ? Knowing they’ve kept the truth from ya for your entire life?
For a brief moment, it comforted Millie to realize that Atlee Glick wasn’t her father. He was a difficult man, with a chip on his shoulder and a short fuse. She had his red hair and freckles, but he was actually her uncle.
No, you got your looks from that Nora woman. Who was your father, really ?
Millie mopped her face with her apron. So many questions overwhelmed her that she couldn’t think straight. She didn’t want to return to her grandparents’ place, because Dawdi would be in a foul mood and Mammi would be upset—and they had kept the truth from her, too. And she certainly didn’t want to deal with Mamm— um, Aunt Lizzie? —even though she’d had the decency to look upset yesterday when she’d heard Nora had returned. And
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