“I mean, what do Anna’s parents think?” Tessie pressed further. Then she seemed to catch herself. “Guess I’m speakin’ out of turn . . . sorry.”

Sadie just smiled. “Would ya like some strawberries? I have some extra.”

Tessie seemed to get the message and thanked her, saying she had plenty of berries at home.

Once Tessie left, Sadie returned to her card making, a lump in her throat at the thought of Eva not recognizing her own daughter. These cards may bring cheer to some folk, but not to all, she thought sadly.

Chapter 17

Anna ran into Mart on Wednesday afternoon and was pleased when he invited her to attend a hymn sing at his church on Friday evening. Anna agreed, looking forward to getting better acquainted with him and meeting his friends. She was also counting the hours till Saturday—that is, assuming she was accepted as a volunteer at Peaceful Meadows Horse Retreat.

In the meantime, Anna hoped to hear back from Wanita regarding the daybooks Mammi had once kept to log her prayers. But knowing how busy she was with her family, Anna chided herself for her impatience.

This could very well be a wild goose chase.

By the end of the Thursday workday, Anna had directed four more tours, each unique in that all the clients were interested in seeing different places. Some wanted more historical sites and information, and she was glad Mart and Charlotte had prepped her for that. Other clients were content to simply see the sights along the rural backroads, hoping to avoid the area’s usual tourist traps. One woman even expressed an interest in seeing “the art form” of how Amish hung their clothes out on the line.

After work that day, Anna received her official acceptance letter as a volunteer at the retreat center. I can’t wait to be around horses again—and to see those darling children, too, she thought later as she pulled over onto the shoulder to take pictures of an old sandstone grist mill. As the sign on the front indicated, Nolt’s Mill was no longer a working mill but rather the John Stevens Gallery, which featured the artist’s limited-edition watercolors and other exquisite artwork. “To think this place was built in 1770,” Anna whispered, in awe of its historic beauty. She took a picture of the cornerstone, as well as the weathervane in the shape of a quill pen atop an attic dormer window. Listening to the powerful rush of the water running through the mill, she thought, My clients will love this place.