A Miracle of Hope (The Amish Wonders Series) by Ruth Reid Page A

adjustment period, but nothing compared to what he experienced when Caroline died or the hours he spent by Hannah’s hospital bed, waiting for some sign that she would wake from her coma.
    “I don’t want you to wear yourself down again.”
    “It’s nett the same.” Josiah’s clipped response stifled further discussion.
    They worked in silence until mealtime, then lumbered toward the house. Simon’s limp appeared more pronounced today. Josiah walked slowly in case his father-in-law’s hip gave out.
    Lindie stood on the porch, her back facing them, her hands clutching the railing.
    Josiah tapped Simon’s shoulder. “Give me a minute, will you?” He waited for Simon to go inside, then he approached Lindie. “Everything okay?”
    “Supper is ready. I reheated the food your woman friend brought over,” she said without facing him.
    “Let’s go eat while it’s hot.” He half turned, but stopped when she didn’t budge. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”
    “I just need some air.”
    He moved closer to get a glimpse of her face. Sullen. “Homesick?”

    “ Jah ,” she whispered.
    He’d warned her it would be a hard adjustment. The letter she received probably made her miss her family.
    Josiah caught a glimpse of Simon standing at the window. He entered the house alone and braced for Simon’s comment.
    “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” Josiah patted his stomach. “How about you?”
    “ Jah , I’m ready to eat.” He flipped his thumb over his shoulder. “Doesn’t your fraa know it’s time to eat? Most women work hard to please their husbands.”
    She needed time, but Simon may not understand that. The Lord knew she had more to adjust to than any other newly married woman. Besides, at twenty-two, she was still young. Unlike Caroline, who became a wife and mother naturally, Lindie stepped into a role she didn’t want—at least not with him.
    Lindie wasn’t prepared for marriage and motherhood. His daughter’s snarly hair was proof of that. Hannah sat at the table, her dress wrinkled and prayer kapp missing. He wondered if Lindie had even tried to do something about his child’s unkempt appearance. But if he asked Hannah why she wasn’t wearing her kapp , Simon would have something to say about that. As it was, Hannah and Simon’s relationship was strained. His father-in-law believed a child needed nonverbal clues, such as not being included in table conversations, to learn that inappropriate actions like running off wouldn’t be tolerated. Josiah wasn’t sure Hannah learned anything but ways to retreat even deeper into her own world.
    Josiah peeled the foil away from the glass dish. His mouth watered. Ellen had gone out of her way preparing a tender pot roast with mushroom gravy and red potatoes. He looked out the window. If Lindie didn’t come in soon, Simon would expecthim to insist she get in the house. Josiah didn’t want to enforce his authority. It was unrealistic to believe their arranged marriage wouldn’t come with some wrinkles. Homesickness for one, remorse another.
    Josiah took his place at the table. Hannah sat on his left and Simon at the opposite end. Josiah tried to peek out the window without Simon noticing. Lindie hadn’t moved. Did she realize she was holding up the meal? In a few minutes, the fading sun would limit his ability to see outside. Then he’d never get her attention without knocking on the windowpane. That would only rile Simon up over the matter, which wouldn’t be good for any of them. Lindie wouldn’t be long. If not hunger, the drop in temperature should bring her in at any moment.
    Hannah wiggled in her chair.
    Simon cleared his throat. “So how does Hannah get along with your new fr —”
    “Her name is Lindie.” He didn’t want Simon’s reference to be how Hannah learned the news. He turned his attention to his daughter, who was staring at him. Her expression was blank. He smiled warmly at her, but the gesture failed to elicit a