Simple Deceit (The Harmony Series 2) by Nancy Mehl Page B

the way I’d expected. Had I missed God?
    I puttered around the house for a while, too tense to settle down for a nap. Originally, I’d planned to go to the meeting tonight with Sam, but since he said he needed some time to himself, I had to assume I was going alone. Although I hated to drive my little car in the snow, at least the meeting wasn’t far and if I had any trouble, I’d be easily found.
    I wasn’t in the mood to cook anything for dinner, so I made a quick sandwich with the leftover steak from lunch. I’d just taken my first bite when the phone rang. I quickly swallowed and reluctantly left my makeshift dinner on the kitchen table while I hurried into the living room. As soon as I picked up the receiver, I knew who it was.
    “Hello? Gracie, are you there?” Ida’s plaintive voice reached me before I had the chance to say “Hello” myself. I’d tried a couple of times to encourage her to wait until the person she was calling answered before she said anything. Obviously we still had some work to do.
    “I know,” she’d responded with a chuckle. “I just get so nervous I forget.”
    “I’m here, Ida,” I said.
    “Oh, Gracie, honey, it is snowing so hard I would hate to take Zebediah out tonight. Can you give me a ride to the town meeting in your automobile?”
    “I’d love to. I’ll pick you up about twenty till six. Is that okay?”
    “Oh yes. Thank you so much. Umm…so we will hang up the phone now, ja?”
    “Yes, that’s fine. See you later.” The silence that followed led me to believe that she was waiting for me to end our call. Ida would never be rude. The idea of hanging up on me probably horrified her. I gently put the receiver down.
    At five fifteen I went outside and started my car after knocking off the snow that covered it. I wanted the interior to be warm for Ida. In Wichita, the police frowned on allowing cars to run unattended. They quickly became targets for car thieves. Here in Harmony, I could start my car in the middle of Main Street and leave it running and unlocked, and the only person who would touch it might be someone who felt the need to move it out of the way for other drivers. The kind of security the small town offered was wonderful but hard to get used to.
    I went back inside and waited until twenty-five till six. Then I drove over to Ida’s. I was surprised by her request to ride into town with me. Most of the time, our Old Order Mennonite citizens avoid town meetings and elections. Their belief about keeping themselves separate when it comes to worldly systems of government means they don’t take social security payments or accept Medicare. Medical problems are usually taken care of by the community through homespun remedies. However, doctors are certainly consulted when necessary. Because of a lack of health insurance, larger bills are taken care of either by the local community church or through the district’s overseeing body. Sam told me once that since he’d come to live in Harmony, he’d noticed thatthose who lived by the Old Order or Conservative Mennonite teachings seemed to be healthier than most. I’d wondered if the lack of smoking, drinking, and junk food contributed. Sam had laughed and said most of Harmony’s Mennonite community would agree with my assessment—after adding one other reason. The most important one. Prayer.
    Getting close to Ida’s was somewhat complicated. The snow had piled up and my little car skidded and slid all the way up to the house. Zebediah was nowhere to be seen. I felt confident he was huddled inside his stable, out of the unpleasant weather. As I clomped through the deepening snow, gusts blew ice particles into my face. I struggled to reach Ida’s front door. Right before I reached out to knock, it swung open.
    “Ach, child,” Ida cried. “I would not have asked you to drive me to the meeting if I had known the weather would turn so awful.”
    I stumbled inside, and Ida closed the door behind me. “It’s