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do this, you know.”
    â€œI know,” she said. But she did. Just add that one to her growing list of lies. She had to go into Tulsa and to the address on the license as surely as she needed her next breath. She didn’t understand this drive inside her, only that it was there and needed to be assuaged.
    â€œAre you ready?” he asked.
    She took a deep breath and attempted a smile. She could tell by the one she received in return that her efforts were lacking. “As I’ll ever be,” she said, and started out the door toward Luke’s car.
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    â€œAre you sure this is right?” she asked nearly forty minutes later.
    Luke stopped the car and turned off the engine. “Pretty sure.” He held out a hand toward her. “Let me look at the license again.”
    Lorie handed over the small rectangle of plastic and studied his face as he doubled-checked the addresses.
    â€œYep. This is it.”
    He handed the license back to her. “Now what?”
    Lorie stared at the flat-roofed brick building in front of them. “I . . . I don’t understand. What is this place?”
    â€œIt’s an assisted living center.”
    She shot him a look.
    â€œThe Englisch don’t take care of their elderly like the Amish do,” he explained. “This place is where old Englisch people go when they can no longer live by themselves.”
    That sounded outright cruel, but Lorie didn’t say so. She had more important things on her mind. “Why would my father use this place as his address?”
    Luke shrugged. “Maybe he knows someone who lives here or even works here.”
    She didn’t know whether to be grateful that the address on the license wasn’t a house with a whole other family living inside or shocked that it led to this home for the elderly.
    â€œThere’s only one way to find out.” Luke nodded his dark head toward the large double doors of the building.
    Lorie sucked in a deep, steadying breath, but nothing could slow the pounding of her heart. “Will you go in with me?”
    Luke smiled. “You know I will.”
    They received a few looks as they entered the facility. Lorie had never felt so self-conscious before. Maybe because Amish folk were all over Wells Landing. But here in Tulsa, her manner of dress was so very different than everyone around her. Most gave her kind smiles while others pinned her with curious stares.
    Luke seemed to sense her hesitation and walked toward the large circular desk and the two women seated behind it. One woman was plump and blond and to Lorie looked like some of the grandmothers who came into the restaurant. Though this woman looked very properly Englisch with her short-sleeved turtleneck sweater and brown-and-gold scarf.
    The younger woman was thin, with dark hair and deep red lipstick. She looked like the newsperson Lorie had seen one time on the television displayed at Walmart.
    â€œHi,” Luke said, flashing the pair his most charming smile. “My friend here is looking for some information.”
    The dark-haired woman returned his smile with a dazzling one of her own and looked at each of them in turn. Surprise flashed in her eyes. Lorie supposed they were an odd-looking couple, she in her Plain mourning attire and Luke dressed like every other Englisch man in town. “I’ll do what I can.”
    He motioned for Lorie to join him at the desk. “Where’s the license?”
    She handed it to him, then studied the scuffed toes of her shoes. It was better than trying to meet the confused looks of the two women.
    â€œDo either of you ladies know Henry Kauffman?”
    They shook their heads, and Lorie’s hopes splintered into a hundred pieces.
    Luke tapped the plastic license on the counter and then showed it to the ladies. “This man,” he said.
    â€œThat’s Henry Mathis,” the brunette said after a careful look at the license. “But I