it’s only January.”
“Patience, Elsie,” his mother cautioned. “Everything comes in its own time. Even spring.”
Getting back on track, Peter brushed aside yet another traveling insect and pushed the box he’d just taken down a little more toward the center of the attic. ”I can’t wait to see what you have in here. This doesn’t look like it’s been touched since you moved in.”
Before his eyes, his mother stiffened. “I had forgotten that box was in here.”
“Then it’s time we found out all your secrets,” Elsie teased from her chair near the window. “Mommi, you know what’s going to have to happen, don’t you? You’re going to have to tell us all the stories that go with the items in the box.”
For some reason, his mother looked even more perturbed. “I doubt you’d be interested, Elsie. There’s nothing out of the ordinary inside. Nothing that you haven’t heard about at least a dozen times. You know, dear, perhaps you should go downstairs with your father. I’ll finish up here on my own.”
“I’m not going to let you be up here by yourself, Mamm,” he said. “Stop worrying so much.”
“And I’m not going to leave you, either, Mommi. There might be something inside that you’ve forgotten about. . . . A deep, dark secret . . .”
His mother laughed. “I think not. My life isn’t filled with secrets. That’s not what the Lord intended.”
Peter felt his smile falter as his mother’s pious remarks floated over him. For all his life, both of his parents had set themselves up as pillars of the community. And as models for their six children to follow.
But their markers were so high, their children never felt they could meet their parents’ high standards. It was one of the reasons his brothers Jacob and Aden had moved to Indiana, and his little sister Sara had moved all the way to New York.
Even though he was the middle child, not the eldest son, he was the one who’d elected to live with his parents and take over the running of the farm. It made the most sense. He was used to keeping the peace—a quality that was definitely needed in his parents’ company.
But even he was finding it difficult to hear their criticisms day after day.
Well, at least that was the reason he gave for his own private behavior.
Pushing his dark thoughts away, he opened the flaps of the box and pulled an armful of the contents out. On top was an embroidered sampler.
“What does it say, Daed?” Elsie asked, reminding him that with her eye disease, it was getting harder and harder for her to see most anything.
“It says ‘Start and End the Day with Prayer.’ ”
Elsie smiled. “That sounds like Mommi.”
Indeed it did. Lovina Keim was the epitome of a dutiful Amish wife. She’d borne six children, had organized charity events for the community, kept a bountiful garden, quilted well, and could still outcook most women in the area.
She was a handsome woman, with dark brown eyes, which her children and grandchildren had all inherited. She was a hard worker and never asked anyone to do anything she wasn’t prepared to do herself.
However, she was also critical and judgmental. It was next to impossible to live up to her expectations.
Elsie moved closer, kneeling next to him. “What else is inside?”
Peter looked at his mother, who seemed frozen, her eyes fastened on the box.
Slowly, he pulled out a heavily embroidered linen tablecloth, and a pair of crystal candlesticks. Peter shook his head. While some Amish women did buy some pretty tableware every now and then, these items were extravagant. Even more, he’d never seen them before. “Mother, where did these come from?” He held up one of the heavy candlesticks.
That seemed to set her back into motion. Busily smoothing out the rough fabric of a quilt, his mother glanced away. “I’m not sure. I’ve forgotten.”
Peter had never known his mother to forget a thing. “Come on, now. You must have an idea.”
“I do