Simple Deceit (The Harmony Series 2) by Nancy Mehl

dawned dark and overcast. The light from the fireplace and the lamp pushed against the gloom and gave the room a comfortable ambience.
    Ida lives without electricity as her choice—a throwback to the Old Order way in which she was raised. Although she has no belief that electricity in and of itself is evil, she prefers to live in the quiet—without the noise and interruptions that can spring from modern technology. I have to admit that Ida’s simple life holds great appeal to me.
    “So you are here to stay,
ja
?” she asked. Traces of a German accent added a guttural tone to her voice. She pointed me toward her couch.
    “That’s the plan. I’ve surrendered my apartment and have a promise from my boss that he won’t call me back to Wichita again.”
    “I think that man asked too much of you,” she huffed as she sat down next to me, smoothing out her dark blue dress and black pinafore. “But you were so good to help him anyway.”
    I smiled. “I don’t know how good I was. I needed the money.”
    Ida reached for a ceramic teapot that sat on the coffee table in front of us. She poured hot tea into a lovely china cup decorated with small red roses and handed it to me. “I heard you were supposed to be back last night, and I so hoped you would stop by today. I kept an extra cup on the table just in case.” Her sweet smile warmed me even more than the tea possibly could, although I was grateful for it. It promised to be a frigid day. A brisk winter wind had chilled me inside and out.
    “I should have called to let you know I was coming. To be honest, I completely forgot about your new phone.”
    The old woman laughed. “You are not the only one. Everytime it rings I almost jump out of my skin. I cannot get used to that loud noise.”
    “Maybe you have the ringer set too high.”
    She wrinkled her nose. “Ach, I did not know it could be adjusted.”
    I got up and walked over to the black phone that sat on a small table between the living room and the dining room. The instrument had a large keypad so that the numbers were easy to read. I picked it up and checked the side. Sure enough, the ringer had been turned up all the way. Not sure how good Ida’s hearing might be, I reset the tone level to medium.
    “Try this,” I said, putting the instrument back on the table. “It won’t be as loud. There’s an even softer setting, but you don’t want the ringer to be so quiet you can’t hear it if you’re in the next room. Of course, if this is still too loud, we can certainly try it.”
    She clapped her hands together. “Thank you, Gracie. I know I made the right decision to have a phone, but when it jangles, I begin to regret allowing it inside my peaceful home.”
    As I sat down next to her, I gently reminded my friend about a couple of situations that might have caused less stress on her and others if she’d had a phone. She nodded as I talked.
    “Ja, ja. I know you are right. Thank you for bringing these things to my remembrance.” She reached over and grasped my hands in hers. “Now tell me everything that has happened to you since we have been apart.”
    I briefly described my time in Wichita and finished up by telling her about the baby left on the church’s doorstep.
    Ida’s already pale complexion turned even whiter. “Ach, no. A baby? Some poor unfortunate mother left her baby alone in the cold? What could she have been thinking?”
    “Well, Abel’s car was outside and his office light was on. She knocked on the door, so I’m pretty sure she believed the baby would be taken care of right away.” I shook my head. “It really is atragedy. A child should be with its mother.”
    “That’s the truth,” Ida said. She adjusted her prayer cap, tucking in one long gray braid that threatened to come free of its pins. “But it sounds as if more needs to be done than to just deliver the child back to her. She must need help. Someone to guide her. If she does not get the support she needs, perhaps