Allison's Journey Read Free Page A

fine.” Gabe moved away from the desk. “Guess I should get on home. Melinda and I are planning to go to Seymour later today. We want to see if the owner of the bed-and-breakfast needs more of her drawings or some of my handcrafted wooden items for his gift shop.”
    “See you Sunday morning at church, then. It’s to be held at the Kings’ place, right?”
    “Jah.” Gabe started for the door. “Maybe we can get a game of baseball going after the common meal,” he called over his shoulder.
    Aaron nodded. “Sounds like fun.”
    The door clicked shut behind Gabe, and Aaron headed to the back room to dye some leather strips. After that, he had a saddle to clean. Maybe if he finished up early, he’d have time to get in a little fishing. At least that was something to look forward to—that and a good game of baseball on Sunday afternoon.

Chapter 2
    A llison stared vacantly out the window at the passing scenery as the bus took her farther from home and all that was familiar. She would be gone three whole months, living with relatives she didn’t really know, in a part of the country she’d never seen before—all because Papa thought she needed to learn to be more feminine while she learned domestic chores.
    Allison glanced at the canvas bag by her feet. Inside was the book Sally had given her, as well as some of Aunt Catherine’s peanut brittle, which she planned to give Aunt Mary and her family. Allison’s faceless doll was also in the bag. She’d had it since she was a little girl. Papa said Mama had made it, but Allison didn’t remember receiving the doll. All her memories of Mama were vague. She’d been only seven when Mama died. Papa said a car had hit Mama’s buggy when she’d pulled out of their driveway one morning. Allison had supposedly witnessedthe accident, but she had no memory of it. All these years, she’d clung to the bedraggled, faceless doll, knowing it was her only link to the mother she’d barely known. Allison had named the doll Martha, after Mama.
    Allison reached down and plucked the cloth doll from the canvas satchel. Its arms had come loose long ago and had been pinned in place. Its legs hung by a couple of threads. Its blue dress and small white kapp were worn and faded. “Mama,” she murmured against the doll’s head. “Why did you have to leave me? If only I could remember your face.”
    Allison was sure if her mother were still alive, she would have mended the faceless doll. Whenever Allison had mentioned the doll to Aunt Catherine, the crotchety woman had said she was too busy to be bothered with something as unimportant as an old doll. But even if Aunt Catherine had been willing to fix the doll, she’d admitted the other day that she couldn’t sew well.
    As Allison continued to study her doll, she noticed a spot of dirt on its faceless face and realized that she felt as faceless and neglected as tattered old Martha. Tears blurred Allison’s vision and trickled down her hot cheeks. My life has no real purpose. I have no goals or plans for the future. I’m just drifting along like a boat with no oars. I have no mother, and Aunt Catherine doesn’t love me. She doesn’t care about anyone but herself .
    Allison had spent most of her life trying to stay out of Aunt Catherine’s way rather than trying to learn how to run a home. Maybe a few months of separation would be good for both of them. Aunt Catherine would probably be happier with Allison gone.
    More tears dribbled down Allison’s cheeks. I’ve never been to Missouri before. What will Aunt Mary and her family be like? WillI make any new friends there? Oh, Sally, I miss you already .
    Allison returned her doll to the satchel and reached for the book Sally had given her. If she kept her mind busy reading, maybe she wouldn’t feel so sad.

    “Did you get Allison put on the bus okay?” Catherine asked Herman as he stepped onto the porch. She was shelling a batch of peas from the garden.
    He nodded and took a seat