Page 69 of Unforgotten

“Nee. I thought she was outside.”

Another lady at the table, this one dressed English, frowned. “She was with Candace. Look for an English girl with long blond hair and you’ll probably find Bethy.”

“I know Candace. I haven’t seen her for a while either.” Thinking back, he murmured, “Last I saw, they were walking together holding hands.”

Martha and the English woman looked at each other and smiled. “They used to do that when they were little girls. I would call them my paper dolls,” Martha said. “You know how paper dolls have linked hands when you cut them out of paper?”

Jay had no idea what Bethanne’s mother was talking about. “Nee. I can’t say that I have much experience with them,” he teased.

“I reckon not,” Candace’s mother said. “Anyways, if they’re together, I’m sure they’re fine.”

Martha suddenly looked more serious. “You know, they weren’t in here when we all washed dishes. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but it isn’t like Bethanne not to offer to help. Jay, when did you see the two of them together?”

“A while ago.” Trying to give a better estimation of the time, he shrugged. “It had to have been an hour ago at the least. I was talking with Bishop Wood when I spied them.”

The third woman in the kitchen tapped her finger on the edge of her glass. “The bishop left over an hour ago.”

Candace’s mother stood. “Maybe they’re up in Bethanne’s room. I’ll go check.” She started toward the hallway. “If theywent up there and lost track of time, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Danke, Dora.”

The back door opened, and Seth poked his head inside. “Jay, you ready now?”

Jay shook his head. “Sorry, I’m not. You go on ahead.”

Seth stepped into the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“We’re looking for Bethanne and Candace.”

Seth frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We just realized none of us have seen them in over an hour now.”

“Dora went to see if they’re upstairs,” Martha said. “I’m sure they’re—”

“They’re not upstairs.” Dora’s concerned voice preceded her into the kitchen.

Martha stood and headed for the living room. “John? Come here, would’ja?”

“Ach, I know it’s late. We’re almost done.”

“Nee, it’s about Bethanne.”

Low murmuring was followed by movement, as all the men who were with John walked into the kitchen.

“I don’t know what John is going to do if something happened to her,” Martha whispered.

Jay didn’t know what he would do either. “Let’s not go borrowing trouble yet.” It was in his nature to reassure, but the truth was that he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Bethy’s probably fine.”

“Bethy? What’s wrong with Bethy?” John asked as he looked around the room. “Did she get sick? Where is she?”

“That’s the problem,” Martha answered. “We don’t know where she is.”

John’s expression gentled as he squeezed his wife’s shoulder. “Come now, Martha. You know better than toget yourself into such a state. She’s fine. There are a lot of people here.”

It was obvious that she was now barely holding it together and that her temper was about to fly. Jay stepped forward. “Sorry, but there aren’t many people left outside. Lott, Seth, and I have been stacking chairs and folding tables. I don’t think she’s out there.”

When it looked like John was about to protest again, Jay quickly explained what he and the others had done during the last ten or fifteen minutes. Bethanne’s father listened, his expression slowly transforming from relaxed to confused to concerned.