“I’m Chief of Police Kate Burkholder from Painters Mill.”

Laura blinks as if trying to absorb all of it. “It must have been very difficult for you.”

“It was,” I tell her. “You made it a little easier.”

Her eyes go soft. “I still can’t believe it. I mean, everything that happened at the farm. We put our faith in him.”

Naomi shakes her head. “I suppose we all knew something wasn’t right.”

“Especially Rebecca,” Ada adds.

“We didn’t want to think the worst about the bishop,” Lena puts in.

“We should have,” Laura interjects.

“Eli Schrock is no bishop,” I tell them. “Not even close.”

“We trusted him,” Lena says. “We believed in him. Looked to him for guidance.”

“He lied to you,” I tell them. “He betrayed you. All of you.”

“The elders are to have a meeting tonight,” Naomi informs me.

“Abe Gingerich has already been in touch with the bishop in Conewango Valley,” Laura adds. “They’re sending their deacon and one of their preachers. I suppose we’ll be nominating a new bishop.”

“A new beginning,” I say.

A lull settles and Laura tosses a speculative look at Tomasetti. “You’re a policeman, too?”

Stepping forward, he extends his hand to her. “Agent Tomasetti, ma’am. Nice to meet you.”

Laura nods and turns her attention back to me. “What you did. Coming here. Alone. It was a very brave thing to do, Kate Miller.”

“Burkholder,” I correct her.

She grins. “No offense, but I liked you better as Kate Miller.”

The laughter that follows is subdued.

“You can renew the lease on your shop now,” I tell Laura.

“I’m happy I won’t have to close it,” she replies, looking pleased. “Sad about the other things. But such is life.”

“When a door closes, a window opens,” Naomi says.

Across the table, Lena winces, gives a small gasp. All heads turn her way.

“Sorry,” she says, looking embarrassed. “Just Braxton-Hicks.”

“Braxton-Hicks?” Naomi gives her a puzzled look. “Who’s that?”

Lena chuckles.

Laura sets her hand on Naomi’s. “Just the little one making himself known.”

I look at Lena. “Will you be using a midwife?”

She shakes her head. “We don’t have a midwife.”

“I thought Mary Gingerich was a midwife,” Naomi says absently.

Something pings in my brain. “Mary’s a midwife?” I ask.

“Before she came to Roaring Springs,” Laura tells me. “She was a midwife in Cambria County, Pennsylvania.”

Mary Gingerich was a midwife.

“In any case,” I tell them, “I didn’t want to leave without saying good-bye to my Amish friends.”

We exchange our final good-byes and hugs. I wish Lena luck with her baby and Laura with the shop. Then Tomasetti and I are on the sidewalk. I stop midway to the Explorer and look at him.

“I didn’t know Mary Gingerich was a midwife,” I say.

His gaze sharpens on mine. “You’re thinking about the Esh girl.”