"I'll come again soon, Mamm. The car will make it so much easier to come back more often."

"Next time I want a ride!" Jacob said.

Ruth stroked the back of his head. "We'll see what Mamm says."

"Let's go, Jacob," Franey said. "Maybe your daed has something for you to carry."

" 'Bye, Ruth!" Jacob waved and started trotting up the street. Franey followed.

Ruth sank back into the driver's seat. Every choice she made seemed to dishearten her mother. Her thoughts turned to Elijah. She had to face him and disappoint him as well.

He was waiting for her on the rock. He sat at the front ledge with his legs dangling, and she approached from behind. His stocky frame tilted back, his weight on his hands a few inches behind his shoulders. Suspenders striped his white shirt, and the black hat on his head was slightly off tilt, as it usually was.

She loved him.

But he deserved a better love, one that did not tear his life apart.

As she hoisted herself up the final incline and onto the rock's flatness, he heard her. He dropped one shoulder, turned his head, and grinned.

"Hello." Ruth stood on the rock, looking at the scar on the ground below them. "Were they really trying to blow up our rock?"

"No one knows for sure, since no one knows who was behind the explosion."

"It's been three days." Ruth moved toward the center of the boulder. "What's taking so long?"

"It's a small town. You cannot go around making accusations until you are sure. That kind of damage can never be undone."

"I suppose not." Ruth did not like to think of anyone accusing Joel of anything-and certainly not this.

Elijah pushed up to his feet and stood beside her. "I'm glad you came."

Ruth slid a step away from him. "Elijah, I don't want to hurt you."

"Then don't. Don't say it."

"We can't keep going around this circle pretending that there will be a happy ending."

"We can have a happy ending if we want it."

"You know it's not that simple. If we're not careful, we'll be the ones causing damage that cannot be undone. I should know. I seem to be pretty good at it already."

"Don't chastise yourself." Elijah reached out and touched her elbow.

"Elijah, please."

He moved closer, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her face in his neck and let the tears come. The security of him. The warmth of him. The scent of him. The sureness of him. When he put his thumb under her chin to tilt it up, she did not resist. Could not resist.

The kiss lasted a long time. Finally Ruth pushed away.

"We should not be doing this."

"I love you, Ruth. There's never going to be anyone else."

"Yes, there will-but not as long as we have anything to do with each other. It's not fair to think we can be friends. And it's outrageous to think we can be anything more. If you can get me out of your mind, you would have a chance to find the kind of love you can build a life on."

"How do you know what I want, Ruth? How do you know what I'm willing to do? Do you think you are the only strong one?"

"I'm not sure that what I did was strong, Elijah. If I were strong, would I be here now? Would I have wanted you to kiss me?"

"Ruth, you've punished yourself enough over the last two years. You can stop."

"I'm not punishing myself," she insisted. "I only want the best for you. I don't want you to go through what I've been through, and I can't come back. I'm not coming back. You have to accept that."

"I do accept it."

She met his eyes, dark and probing. "No," she said. "I will not be the reason. Please don't write to me, Elijah. Don't call. It's best this way."

Thirty-Six.

March 1778 Mamm," Jacob said, "Maria has come home."

When she did not answer immediately, apprehension flashed like lightning. Jacob felt it, and then it was gone. Whatever questions roiled in his mother, she would not turn her back on Maria.

He glanced at his half sister, who seemed less certain of Elizabeth's forgiveness.

Elizabeth's face contorted its way from blanched to flushed. "I remember the day you came in the bookshop with your father and Lisbetli. you were five years old."

Maria laughed nervously. "More than forty years ago. Lisbetli chose you before the rest of us did."

"Both of you were beautiful little girls, and I wanted nothing more than to stand alongside your father and watch you grow into women."

Jacob heard the breath go out of Maria. "I told Daed we would see you again," she said.

"I waited for you to come back to the shop then, and I've waited again all this time."

When his mother and sister were in each other's arms-sobbing-Jacob breathed his own sigh of relief. He turned to his son, who had watched the interchange with his mouth hanging half-open.

"Franklin, go get your mother. Use the wagon to bring everybody up here quickly."

"Everybody?" Maria echoed. "How many are there?"

"Four boys, two girls," Jacob answered. In another situation, he might have mirrored the polite inquiry with one of his own. But he would have to save his curiosity about Maria's family for another time. "Go, Franklin."

The boy turned and scuttled down the hill.

"Come, Maria," Elizabeth said, "let's go to the house."

An hour later, Jacob confined himself to the main room of his mother's house, savoring the comforting presence of his children. He sat in the chair nearest the fire to be sure none of the little ones came too near the grate. Catherine nestled in his lap, and the baby dozed in the same cradle Jacob himself had slept in so long ago. Joseph's two children squabbled at his feet, but Jacob paid no mind. He was listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen, where Elizabeth heated water over the small hearth for the tub and Maria gasped with delight at the luxury of a hot, unhurried bath. Jacob's wife, Katie, and Joseph's wife, Hannah, huddled in the kitchen looking for ways to be helpful.

Katie came out of the kitchen and glanced around. "Where's Franklin?"

"I sent him to ride out to John's and find David in the north field." Jacob paused to plant a kiss on top of Catherine's head. "Getting a message to Sarah is more complicated. And Joseph? I don't know where he is."

"We haven't had a letter since before Valley Forge," Katie said. She wiped her hands on her apron. "Hannah tries not to show it, but she's frantic."

"How's Maria?"

Katie laughed, the sound that cracked Jacob's heart open every time.

"Underneath all those clothes was a layer of dirt thick as window glass," she said. "But it's coming off little by little."

"I hope she'll tell us her story."

"Don't rush her, Jacob. She's been gone thirty years. She will need time."

Her counsel was wise as always, and Jacob nodded.

"I'm on my way upstairs to find her a dress," Katie said. "Your mamm says Sarah leaves a couple of work dresses here. Maria is too short for Elizabeth's clothes."

Another thirty minutes passed before Maria appeared in the main room, shyly tugging at a faded calico dress that hid her thinness. A girlish ribbon at the base of her neck temporarily tamed her long black hair. Behind her, Katie, Hannah, and Elizabeth stood like ladies in waiting. Jacob rose to greet the entourage.

"I have not worn a dress like this in a long time," she said. "I hardly know how to walk."

What had she been wearing? Jacob wanted to know. He swallowed the question and smiled.

"Ethan would be pleased, I think," Maria said.

"Ethan?"

"Her husband," Katie supplied.

Apparently more had transpired in the kitchen than a thorough scrubbing.

"I've been in one disguise or another for years," Maria said. "A wagon driver, a farm wife, a dairy farmer on milk runs. Usually in drab colors and fabrics that no one would notice."

Jacob tilted his head. "Perhaps a brown tweed jacket and breeches, and a hat pulled down low over your face behind the State House? The sort of thing no one would notice in a steady rain?"

He watched Maria's eyes widen.

"Yes, I was there in the State House yard that day," he said. "With so many people there, I couldn't move quickly enough to follow you."

She gasped. "I cannot believe it. You knew I was in Philadelphia?"

"I was not sure I could trust my eyes," he said, "and Sarah did not see you at all."

Elizabeth stepped forward and gripped Jacob's arm. "You never told me!"

"I did not want you to be disappointed."

"Knowing she was alive-that's all I would have needed."

"I'm here now," Maria said, "and I'm ready to tell you where I've been."

Jacob gestured for everyone to sit. Katie and Hannah shared the settee, each one first bending to pick up a toddler. Elizabeth sat in the rocker Jacob's father had made. Maria stood at the stone fireplace, one hand on the black oak mantel with fingers tenuously exploring its familiarity.

"I remember when Daed found this piece of wood," Maria said. "He knew it would be perfect here."

Jacob had been too young to remember. At the moment, he wanted to hear a piece of more recent history. She let her fingers trace over a few of the ridges of stone rising from floor to ceiling then turned to face her expectant listeners.

"Ethan came to Irish Creek when I was sixteen. He was only here a few weeks. An English. He hired himself out for odd jobs. I met him one day when I was visiting at the Stutzman farm and he rode through looking for work."

"They would never have hired him," Elizabeth said. "Not the Stutzmans."

Maria smiled. "You are right. But it was all the introduction we needed. I followed him, and we walked along the creek. It was love. I was in lieb." She raised her eyes to Elizabeth. "Suddenly I understood why Daed would consider leaving the Amish to marry. But I was Amish. Barbara and Anna and Christian were Amish. I was next. I was supposed to be baptized."

"We all thought you wanted to join the church," Elizabeth said.

"I suppose I would have, if I had not met Ethan. Then it did not seem as if keeping the family happy was a good reason to take such a step. I wanted to explain to Christian. I knew he was the one who would be most hurt. We could have worked it out in time, I think. But Ethan wanted to keep moving, and he wanted me to come with him. He did not propose anything unseemly. He said we could go to Reading and be properly married. Then we would go west."

"I do not understand all the disguises," Jacob said.

"That came later." Maria turned and held her hands out to the fire's warmth. "We did go west. Ethan did not take me anywhere I did not want to go. I knew adventure was waiting for us, and we found it."

"Where did you end up?"

Maria laughed. "We did not end up anywhere. We moved around western Pennsylvania and into Ohio. Trapping. Selling furs. Helping people outfit to go even farther west. God did not bless us with children, and perhaps it is just as well. That left us free for our new work when the time came."

"New work?"

"We did not hear about the citizens of Boston dumping tea into the harbor for a long time. But as soon as we learned of it, we wanted to be part of forging this new country. By the time we got to Boston, fighting had broken out. Boston was not the only place in trouble."

"New York?" Jacob asked, trying to recall the early turning points in the war. "And, of course, Philadelphia."

"And many places in between," Maria said. "Our experience in the wilderness suited us well for moving behind enemy lines, posing in all sorts of roles." Her voice thickened. "But we often worked separately, with a common base. When Philadelphia fell to the British, Ethan got trapped in the city, and I was beyond the British line. I haven't seen him in months, and none of my connections has heard anything about him. I was at Valley Forge all winter, on the fringes of Washington's camp."

"Valley Forge?" Elizabeth sat up straight. "The last we heard, Joseph was at Valley Forge."

Maria shook her head. "I didn't know. Who knows if we would recognize each other if we were face-to-face."

"He should have come home." Elizabeth sank back into her chair. "Washington has done nothing but try to survive the elements."