Laura crosses to her, arms open. “Come here, baby.”

Lena falls into her embrace. “We had harsh words,” she sobs, “and now she’s gone.”

“Shush,” Laura coos. “Rebecca never met an argument she didn’t like.”

“She was full of forgiveness,” Naomi adds.

“And a little bit of vinegar,” Ada puts in.

For most Amish, grief is expressed quietly and in private. But the Amish are human, and there are times when emotions run high and public displays can’t be helped.

“I was going to make it right today,” Lena says.

I didn’t know Rebecca well, having only met her once. But whether I knew her or not, she deserved the chance to live her life. And as the grief pours off these women, I feel that same sadness welling inside me.

Naomi goes to the coffee pot and returns with two cups, shoves one of them at Lena. “Rebecca thought of you as her own daughter.”

“She enjoyed a lively spar, too,” Laura says.

“Never had to wonder where you stood with her,” Ada adds. “Just look at how she talked about the bishop.”

Seeing an opening, I pick up my own cup of coffee and casually ask, “Speaking of the bishop, I’m surprised Levi didn’t reach out to him. Especially if he was distraught.…”

Naomi nods. “I wish he had.”

Lena pulls away from Laura and takes her cup. “Bishop Schrock would have guided them through the darkness.”

“Did Rebecca and Levi have family?” I ask. When Laura shoots me a warning look, I add. “Sometimes if you’re going through a rough spot, it’s your family who pull you out.”

The women exchange glances and suddenly it dawns on me that Laura isn’t the only one who knows Rebecca’s family is gone. Either Rebecca confided in someone else, or people simply noticed they were gone.

“I heard her son and daughter-in-law left,” Naomi says in a low voice.

All eyes sweep to Naomi. “Took the two girls with them,” she says. “That’s all I know.”

“Why did they leave?” I ask.

“I suppose no one rightly knows,” Naomi replies.

Laura motions toward the sewing table where the quilt they’d been working on waits. We take our chairs. Rebecca’s is conspicuously empty.

Lena lowers herself into the chair, scooting it away from the table to make room for her belly. “What about her grandson?”

Ada picks up her needle, threads it and begins to stitch. “Rebecca told me Bishop Schrock sent her grandson away to help an elderly couple who’d lost their family in a buggy accident. Never understood why he did that.”