Free Heritage of Lancaster County 03 The Reckoning by Unknown Page A

felt she could pull off such an event anyway--not the way she was suffering. "I understand."
    "Would it be all right if I called again in a few days?" he asked. "Maybe then we can plan for another time."
    "Yes... when the storm is past."
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    He paused. "Well, I trust this snow will end quickly." They said good-bye without chatting further. She hoped she hadn't been too abrupt or aloof. Thinking back, she wondered if she might've mentioned something about looking forward to seeing him again. Something kind and gracious like that.
    But she hadn't felt at all kindly toward him. Hadn't felt much of anything, really. Truth be told, she wished she were as young as her dreams last night. If so, she'd crawl right up in Dat's lap and let him rock her to her heart's content in his great big hickory rocker. And when she grew tired of it, she'd munch on one of Mamma's whoopie pies till she was that close to a stomachache. That's just what she'd do if she weren't all grown up and... English.
    After the morning worship service, Dan was invited to have dinner at a restaurant with Owen and Eve Hess. "Our treat," Owen said, wearing a broad grin. "We haven't seen much of you lately."
    Politely, Dan asked for a rain check. "I'd like very much to eat with you, but--well, it won't suit this time. I hope you'll understand."
    Eve linked her arm in her husband's, casting a curious gaze on Dan. "Are you feeling all right?" she asked as they moved down the church aisle toward the foyer.
    "A bit under the weather, I suppose," he replied, not wanting to go into how he really felt.
    "Very well, then, I'll see you tomorrow at the office." Owen gave a broad smile and turned to go.
    It had begun to sleet during Sunday school, and as Dan made his way out of the church, he noticed that the parking lot had glazed over. Gingerly, he headed for his car and
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    started it, letting the engine warm up while he scraped the ice off his windows.
    Back in the car, he waited his turn, while church traffic snarled in the lot, tires spinning and vehicles lurching forward. Well, he was in no hurry. He reached over on the seat and picked up his Bible, thumbing through it till he found the letter he'd written to Katie the night before he visited Mayfield Manor. Holding it, he stared at the words, not seeing them but recalling Katie's demeanor, her modern dress . . the changes her appearance had taken in the more than five years since he'd last seen her. Still as attractive as ever-- same fiery hair, same bright brown eyes--yet her speech patterns, her choice of words, had thrown him somewhat as he sat in the well-furnished parlor. The lack of Amish attire, the absence of the head covering especially, and the stylish haircut had mystified him. Yet he assumed that she, too, must surely be grappling with the same unfamiliar images as she stared back at him.
    In all the years he'd known her, Katie had never worn makeup. Never sought after or needed beauty aids. He wondered what had led her away from her Plainupbringing. The way she carried herself--her posture--spoke of a finishing school somewhere. But when would she have attended such a place? And why?
    He was curious about her birth mother, the woman Katie had set out to find. Had Katie discovered and embraced qualities in her biological mother--traits she'd never known in Rebecca Lapp?
    Dan turned on the windshield wipers. The snow was falling more heavily now, and inadvertently, he glanced in his rearview mirror and noticed a lady driver motioning for him to back out. He waved his thanks, chuckling softly to himself.
    Ruth Stine. A sweet young lady, one that several of his single friends had mentioned on occasion. Owen and Eve,
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    as well. He knew better than to think that any of them might arrange for a get-together with Ruth without his consent. Yet at the same time, he had never told those same friends of his sweetheart girl, now the mistress of an impressive estate. Though Owen had heard the story of Dan's long-ago