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on being the kind of man his parents would have been proud of. The kind of man Jacob was.
    And he’d thought he’d succeeded—until he found Angela with another man.
    John’s eyes popped open. Remembering his dismay. Their arguments. Angela’s disdain of his “country” ideals.
    The humiliation of knowing that he was the first person in his family to ever divorce.
    And that’s when he also realized that everything his parents said had been true. He wasn’t good enough, and he never would be.
    That pain felt as fresh as ever. Even now, almost twenty years later. Which showed him that even after all this time, he was still the same confused boy he’d always been.
    Here he was, going back to Jacob’s Crossing—and he didn’t have a clue about what he was going to do there.

Chapter 5
    T he Toledo train station was overflowing with emergency personnel, bus managers, and dozens of tired, cranky people.
    As soon as Lucy exited the bus, she looked for Calvin and Katie. Even their uncle. But instead of seeing Calvin’s black hat or hearing Katie’s constant chatter, all she saw was a sea of Englischers . Taken off guard, she froze.
    “Go to your right, miss.” A uniformed man pointed impatiently. “You’re holding up the line. We don’t have all day.”
    “Sorry,” Lucy murmured as she walked in the direction he indicated, but still craned her neck, hoping against hope that she would suddenly spot Calvin and his sister. But no matter how hard she looked, they were not to be found.
    She chewed on her bottom lip as her line inched forward. Conversations spun in the air around her, but she paid them no mind. Instead, all she was able to think about was how disappointed she was not to see any of the Weavers.
    Well, if she was being honest with herself, Lucy knew she wasn’t looking for all the Weavers. Though Katie was an adorable child and his uncle seemed terribly kind, Lucy was upset not to see Calvin. She felt his absence like a physical thing, like he’d taken her coat and she now felt the rain and cold all the more.
    She couldn’t understand why. She usually did everything she could to stay away from contact with men. Until she’d met Calvin, she would have never guessed she would actually enjoy another man’s company.
    Lucy shook her head, trying to snap out of it. Again a uniformed man directed her to another line, this one in front of a ticket booth. “How will I board my train to Cleveland?” she asked. “What time does it leave?”
    He rolled his eyes. “It depends which train we can get you on.”
    “But—”
    “Do you still have your original ticket?” he snapped.
    His rude tone rattled her. Hastily, Lucy opened her bag. “ Jah . It’s right—”
    “I don’t need to see it this minute,” he interrupted. “Just show it to the agent at the ticket window and she’ll get you on the next available train out of here.”
    “The one going to Cleveland?” Really, she couldn’t understand his directions. Or why he insisted on speaking so fast . . .
    “Yes.”
    “Oh. All right, then. Thank you.” She tried to smile, but the gesture, like her words, seemed to be a waste. The man had already started barking orders at the person behind her.
    Strangers pushed ahead, their belongings jostling her, making her feel even more ill at ease. Her hair and kapp were still damp, and she felt exposed standing by herself. Inch by inch, her line moved. She hitched her quilt bag up higher on her shoulder and stepped forward. All of a sudden, she felt overly warm in her wool cloak.
    The station was hot and humid. Though thunder and lightning weren’t flashing anymore, a light rain still pattered the windows. Moisture permeated the lobby. The light musty smell of mildew and damp clothes made her sneeze.
    After a moment, she stepped forward again. Shifting her quilt bag so she could open it, Lucy reached in and checked for her wallet.
    But instead of having to shuffle through the contents of the bag like