Redeeming Grace. Emma Miller

      Chapter Four

      “Wake up, Schweschder,” Susanna called, pushing open Grace’s bedroom door. “Wait till you see! Mam sent you new clothes. And Plain clothes for Dakota, too.”

      Grace stifled a groan. Surely it couldn’t be time to get up yet. It wasn’t even light out. How was Susanna always so happy this early in the morning? Still, Susanna had called her sister, and the word glowed warm in Grace’s heart. At least someone thought she belonged here.

      Susanna placed a kerosene lamp carefully on the dresser, and a circle of soft yellow light spread across the room. “Mam says it’s time to get up.”

      “I’m coming,” Grace promised. Getting up before dawn was hard. She’d never been a morning person and rarely came fully awake until her second cup of coffee. Groaning, she pushed back the heavy quilt. She was no quitter. She’d do whatever she had to do to prove to Hannah that she was worthy of becoming one of them.

      The room was cool and the feather ticks and quilt that covered the bed toasty. Dakota was snuggled beside her, black hair all spiky and one arm wrapped tightly around his stuffed bunny. Intense love for her son washed over Grace. Dakota was what mattered most in the world to her. His welfare was more important than anything else. The past three days hadn’t been easy, but the worst had to be behind her if Hannah had sent them Amish clothing. If they dressed like the rest of the family, it had to be easier for them to fit into the household and the community.

      Dakota sighed and burrowed deeper under the covers. She’d tucked him into the trundle bed as she had for the past three nights since Irwin had carried it down from the attic. She knew he should be sleeping in his own bed, but every morning, when she awoke, Dakota was in her bed. Back in Nebraska, he’d slept alone, but since she’d uprooted his life, he didn’t want to be apart from her, especially at night. And who could blame him? Seven Poplars was a world apart from a trailer park on the wrong side of the tracks. If she was confused, how much more must Dakota be?

      “Mam is making blueberry pancakes,” Susanna supplied cheerfully. “And today the Kings come. To stay with us.” She bounced from one foot to another in excitement. “Do you want me to take Dakota to the potty and brush his teeth?”

      “Would you?” Grace leaned down and whispered in her son’s ear. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

      Dakota sat up, yawned and rubbed his eyes. A lopsided grin spread over his face when he caught sight of Susanna. Sometimes, Grace found Susanna’s speech a little hard to understand, but Dakota seemed to have no trouble at all. He’d taken to Susanna, as Joe would have said, “Like a cowboy to hot biscuits.”

      Thoughts of Joe were bittersweet, and Grace pushed his image away. So many mistakes...but then there was Dakota, her precious son.

      Susanna held out her chubby arms, and Dakota scrambled out of the bed and bounced into her embrace. “I’ll help him get dressed, too.” Dakota waved over Susanna’s shoulder as she scooped up a small shirt and a pair of blue overalls and went happily off with her.

      Grace’s pulse quickened as she looked at the neatly folded stack of clothing. Her hands trembled as she reached for the white head covering on top, but when she picked it up, she couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. It wasn’t a proper Kapp, not like the ones Hannah and her daughters wore. It was white cotton, starched and hand-stitched, but more like a Mennonite head covering than Amish. She’d seen Mennonites in the Midwest; they sort of dressed like everyone else, just more modestly.

      The long-sleeved calico dress was robin’s egg blue with a pattern of tiny white flowers that fell a good three inches below her knees. It wasn’t new, but it fit as if it had been made for her. And once she tied the starched white apron over the dress and added the dark stockings and sensible navy blue sneakers, Grace had to admit that it was a great improvement over the outfit she had arrived in. But it definitely wasn’t Amish.

      “Small steps,” she murmured under her breath. “I should be grateful that Hannah didn’t toss me out in the rain.” Instantly, she felt guilty for her lack of patience. She dropped to her knees beside the bed and offered a fervent prayer of apology and thanks. “I’m still fumbling in the dark, Lord,” she whispered. “I came here looking for a father, and instead You showed me the possibility of a whole family. Help me to do what’s right for Dakota and me.”

      Grace knew that she had much to atone for and much to learn. But surely, a merciful God wouldn’t give her a glimpse of heaven, only to snatch it all away.

      “Grace?”

      Grace rose hastily and turned to see Hannah standing in the open doorway.

      “I’m sorry,” Hannah said. “I didn’t mean to disturb your prayers.”

      Grace felt her cheeks grow warm. How long had Hannah been standing there? Had she heard her prayer? Unconsciously, Grace put a hand to her cap, checking to see if it was securely pinned in place. “You didn’t... I mean, I was done. I...” She hesitated. “I thought... These clothes aren’t...”

      “They’re Plain,” Hannah said. “Not Amish, but not English, either. Halfway, as you are, Grace. Actually, the dress is a gift from your sister Leah’s Aunt Joyce, by marriage. She’s Mennonite. Leah married into the family.”

      “Anna told me that Leah and her husband, Daniel, were missionaries in Brazil. I didn’t think that was allowed....”

      Hannah’s features softened. “Our way, the Old Order Amish way, must be chosen freely by each person. I can’t deny that I was surprised that Leah chose another path to God, the Mennonite path, but I accept it as part of His plan.”

      “Oh.” Grace couldn’t imagine that her sister would want to leave Seven Poplars for Brazil. And to be Amish and give it up...

      “Leah’s husband, Daniel, has an aunt nearby. Joyce and I have become friends. When I saw her at Byler’s and mentioned you, she said that a niece had outgrown some dresses that might fit you. Joyce dropped them off yesterday, but they were a little long.”

      “I always have to hem stuff,” Grace said. “I’m short.”

      “Your father wasn’t a tall man.” Hannah folded her arms. “I hope you like the cap and apron. Rebecca sewed them for you.”

      “I do.” Grace took a deep breath. “And I appreciate the clothing. But I don’t want to be a burden. I’ll get a job just as soon as I can and contribute money to the household.” She thought as she spoke aloud. “There must be hotels in Dover. I’ve worked in housekeeping a lot and most places have a big turnover. I’m not sure what I’d do for transportation. Is there a bus—”

      “Ne.” Hannah shook her head. “Not permitted.”

      Grace looked at her. “You mean I...we aren’t allowed to use public transportation? Is there a rule against—”

      Hannah’s eyes widened. “You cannot work in a hotel. Housekeeping for English is sometimes allowed in private homes, but the bishop must approve it. He would never allow a woman to work in such a place.”

      “Being a maid is respectable,” Grace argued. “We hardly see the guests at all. I wouldn’t be alone. Two girls work together to clean the rooms.”