Read When Grace Sings for Free Online

spray-painted bumpers, obviously a vehicle driven by a member of an Old Order sect, inched up the lane. She shrugged. “I was going to say ‘when they get here.’ And I’m pretty sure that’s now.”
    Steven
    “Whew.” Steven shook his head and stared at the house through the car’s windshield. Dusk was falling, but there was enough remaining light to see that the farmhouse was painted like a circus tent. “Anna—Grace told me her great-aunt’s house had a new paint job, but I didn’t expect anything so …” He wasn’t sure how to describe it.
    Dad pulled his sedan next to a red sports car and turned off the engine. He frowned first at the car and then at the house. “I don’t know what to think. A fancy car beside the barn. A fancy house. Your mother would be shocked. It wasn’t like this when she lived next door.”
    Steven wasn’t shocked. He was intrigued. But he wouldn’t say so.
    Dad went on, his expression dour and tone forbidding. “It must be the influence of that granddaughter of Abigail Zimmerman’s. She was raised in the world, you know.”
    Steven vaguely recalled the Brauns talking at a Sunday fellowship dinner about the return of one of the Zimmerman daughters, who brought a grownup daughter home with her. Mom had been encouraged by the story, saying it meant there was hope Kevin would come back, too, someday, but Steven hadn’t paid much attention. What did he care about some family he’d never met? Now he wished he’d listened more closely.
    Dad tapped his chin with his finger, his scowl deep. “Maybe we should have waited and come over in the morning instead. Maybe it’s not such a good idea for us to give our money to someone who isn’t of our sect.”
    Steven didn’t think it would be any different than buying groceries from one of the big chains or a car from the dealer in Salina. Plus, in his opinion, it wasn’t right to make a reservation and then not honor it. Obviously the innkeeper was waiting for them—yellow porch lights glowed a warm welcome. But it was useless to argue with his father. So he waited in silence for Dad to decide what to do.
    After several long minutes, Dad huffed a breath, got out, and headed for the house. Even though he hadn’t invited Steven to go with him, he followed anyway. The pathway was lined by glass balls that flickered first red, then blue, then green, reminding Steven of tiny fireworks. Color everywhere he looked. So unlike home. A thread of eagerness to see what else was different here sped his steps.
    The front door opened and a smiling girl stepped onto the porch. She moved to its edge and waved. Although not attired like an Old Order Mennonite, her clothes were modest, her hairstyle simple, and she hadn’t slathered her face with makeup. After getting a look at her car and the way the house was painted, Steven had expected something different. Something more. He couldn’t decide whether he was disappointed or relieved by her humble appearance.
    “Good evening,” the girl called. “Are you the Brungardts?”
    Dad stopped at the bottom of the porch stairs. “That’s right.”
    The girl’s smile widened. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Alexa Zimmerman. Welcome to Grace Notes.”
    Steven wanted to climb the steps and go right inside, but Dad didn’t move.
    “Is your grandmother here?”
    Alexa Zimmerman didn’t seem put off by Dad’s brusqueness. Her smile remained in place and she gave a nod, linking her hands and laying them against her skirt front. “Yes, she is. She’s been watching for you. I think she’s eager to visit with someone from Sommerfeld since her nephews live there.”
    His face set in an uncertain frown, Dad stared at the girl for a few seconds. Then he gave a nod and turned to Steven. “Go get our case.”
    Steven swallowed a smile. He guessed they were staying.

Briley
    Briley carried one of the ancient chairs—the one that appeared the sturdiest—from the table to the front stoop and settled