Read Online Susanna's Dream: The Lost Sisters of Pleasant Valley, Book Two by Marta Perry - Free Book Online Page B

look, not to buy. He felt their stares as he guided Susanna to the back of the shop.
    Here was where much of the work was done. No Amishman would buy new until the old couldn’t be fixed any longer, and Bishop Mose was known for his expertise in mending harnesses. Behind the back counter, several heavy machines for sewing leather were connected to the power source by the heavy belts that ran through a slot in the floor to the cellar below.
    The bishop sat at a worktable, bending over a buckle, but he looked up at their approach, his keen eyes moving from Nate’s face to Susanna’s.
    “Nathaniel Gaus. It’s been a time since I’ve seen you in my shop.” He stood, laying aside the work and wiping his hands on the heavy apron he wore. His beard, nearly all white now, reached to the middle of his chest, and his face bore as many wrinkles as the leather he worked.
    “It’s gut to see you, Bishop Mose. I’ve brought Susanna Bitler to meet you.”
    The Englischers were staring again at the rapid rattle of Pennsylvania Dutch, and he was irrationally annoyed. He was inured to stares, but Susanna didn’t need to be subjected to their curiosity when she was in such a vulnerable state.
    Bishop Mose nodded at the introduction, and it was obvious from his expression that he recognized the name. “Ja. Wilkom, Susanna. In a way, I was expecting you might komm to see me at some time.”
    Since Susanna seemed bereft of speech, Nate figured it was up to him. “Susanna needs some answers. I told her you might be the best person to ask.”
    “I will do my best.” The bishop’s face was grave. “Komm. There are chairs on the back porch, and it is warm today. Go and sit, and I’ll close the shop and be right with you.”
    Nate nodded and steered Susanna to the back door. As he went out, he could hear Bishop Mose explaining to his nonbuyers that it was closing time. The woman seemed inclined to argue, but he hustled them out firmly.
    The porch ran the width of the shop, and it was furnished with four bentwood rockers and a couple of small tables. The yard stretched to a small stable, and the buggy horse in the adjoining paddock lifted its head to stare at them for a moment before lowering it to crop at the grass. Beyond, a row of trees bordered the small stream that ran parallel to the main road.
    Nate settled Susanna in a rocker. “Take off your bonnet and sweater, why don’t you? It’s pleasant out here.” He followed his own advice by removing his hat and dropping it on the nearest table before taking the chair next to her.
    Susanna removed her bonnet, smoothing her hair back to her kapp in the automatic gesture women had. The sunlight touching it brought out glints of bronze in the brown, making him remember that the Englisch woman, Chloe Wentworth, had reddish hair.
    He studied Susanna’s face, looking for a clue to her attitude. She had obeyed him about the bonnet almost automatically, as if it was easier to do it than to argue. She didn’t look quite as pale as she had earlier, her skin smooth and even but no longer ashen.
    Footsteps sounded, coming toward the porch, and her eyes widened. “This is a mistake.” Her fingers dug into the arms of the chair. “I don’t want to find out.”
    Before Nate could come up with an answer, the door opened and Bishop Mose joined them. His keen gaze swept them, and then he pulled up a chair and sat facing them.
    “You know, I think I would have recognized you even if I hadn’t heard your name, Susanna. You have a look of your mother about you.”
    Susanna’s lips tightened. “Elizabeth Bitler was my mother.”
    This meeting would be doomed if Susanna were prickly from the start. “I think the bishop meant your birth mother,” Nate said.
    “Ja, that’s so,” Bishop Mose agreed. “Elizabeth was your mother, and she was wonderfully devoted to you.”
    Susanna’s expression softened. “Did you know her then?”
    “I did. I got to know her during that terrible time of the