![]() ![]() She headed for the cattle gate at the back of the pastureland that was lined by the dirt road. Her journey passed rapidly as she listened to birds singing their morning songs and counted fence posts.Īs she topped the hill, a baritone voice sang an unfamiliar tune. Paul would be at the end of her one-mile jaunt. She took another long look at her homestead before traipsing onward. There was a life out there-one that had elbowroom-and it called to her. Some days the desire to break from her family’s confinements sneaked up on her. Freedom beckoned to her, but so did her relatives. Her Amish heritage was hundreds of years old, but her heart yearned to be as modern as personal computers and the Internet. She closed her eyes, breaking the visual connection to home. ![]() Seventeen years ago she’d been born in that house. ![]() Her family’s gray stone farmhouse was perched amid rolling acreage. When she topped the knoll and was far enough away so her father couldn’t spot her, she turned, taking in the view behind her. Early morning light filtered through the broad leaves of the great oaks as she ran toward her hopes…and her fears.Ī mixed fragrance of light fog, soil, garden vegetables, and jasmine drifted through the air. Hannah Lapp covered the basket of freshly gathered eggs with her hand, glanced behind her, and bolted down the dirt road. ![]()
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