Seasons of Lancaster - 01 - A Simple Winter by Rosalind Lauer

Author:Rosalind Lauer [Lauer, Rosalind]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Amish & Mennonite, Romance, General, Christian
ISBN: 9780345526724
Google: 0ky5OE7InOUC
Amazon: 0345526716
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 2011-10-18T05:00:00+00:00

PART TWO

Home Is Where the Heart Is

Keep me as the apple of the eye,

Hide me under the shadow of thy wings.

—PSALM 17:8

TWENTY-FOUR

he morning sun painted a swath of pale yellow over the winter grass as Remy drove slowly behind a gray carriage drawn by a trotting horse. She could see how Amish life forced a person to slow down—literally. But she didn’t mind the slower pace, now that she was close. And she hoped the cloud break was a sign for the day ahead.

A meeting with Adam. It sounded so formal for two people who’d shared their hopes and fears. A friendship, of sorts. In her dreams they had a future, but then dreams were the notions you turned to when reality let you down, and Remy had been through her share of disappointments.

She’d been worried about making the drive out here, worried that she wouldn’t be able to find her way back to the Kings’ house among the sparsely marked farm roads and miles of dormant fields.

Fortunately, those proved to be useless worries. The sight of the familiar cluster of buildings that comprised the Kings’ farm brought her a surprising feeling of release … as if she’d just come home after a long time away. Or maybe it was relief that the drive had been smooth and uneventful. Not even a trace of the strange weariness or tingling that usually warned of a coming seizure.

As she turned onto the unpaved road leading to the Kings’ farm, she recalled Arlene’s admonitions. “Go on the record,” her boss had said. Bottom line, Remy had to let Adam know she was writing a story about his family. No squirming around the topic, the way she’d done in the Reading Terminal Market.

Even Sadie’s statements wouldn’t be printable without Adam’s permission, and she could forget about quoting anything Simon had told her. Right now Adam was the key to her story, and Remy was convinced that soliciting his cooperation was similar to a diplomatic mission. It couldn’t be rushed or minimized.

She would have to take it slow and easy, like the horse and carriage in front of her car. She would have to wait for Adam to open up, the way you waited for a bud to unfurl in the spring.

Although the concept of patience was not something she wanted to explain to the Post’s editor in chief. At this morning’s editorial meeting, Arlene had been insistent that she head out to Lancaster County immediately. She had even excused Remy from her office tasks for the rest of the day.

“I thought I made it clear that you have an assignment,” the older woman had said, her beady eyes stern. “What did you not understand about that?” When Remy had tried to explain that she thought she was supposed to research the story on her own time, Arlene had shooed her toward the door.

“Go. Research. Interview. Write. Remember the four Ws? Who, what, when, where.”

Passing the stand of bare beech trees, she pulled up beside a horseless carriage, cut the engine, and climbed out of the car.

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