A Perfect Square (11 page)

F
RIDAY EVENING,
Samuel crept deep into the woods, far from Reuben’s house. He’d wanted to stay, wanted to see if Reuben came back, but the police had made him nervous, so Samuel had left and wandered around the woods for days, confused and disoriented. Lost without his Katie. But he’d been careful to stay beneath the trees.

Now he dumped everything out of his pack and took stock.

He was cold and he was hungry and he didn’t think he’d survive another night in the woods. Already he’d developed a hacking cough. The hunger pains that had increased as his supplies diminished had been replaced by a constant nausea. He’d taken to drinking water from the stream when the bottles he’d brought had run dry.

It was time to make a decision, starting with what he knew.

Katie was dead.

Reuben wasn’t coming back any time soon.

The police had searched the entire property and started toward the fields, but before they’d gone as far as the woods, someone had shouted from the pond. Apparently they’d found whatever clue they had sought. Then there was a lot of activity and excitement for a time. When they’d begun searching the house, the
house he’d shared with Katie, someone actually yelled out for the officer from the front door, though he couldn’t make out the rest of the man’s words.

The amount of equipment they’d used was staggering. What could they possibly have been looking for?

Whatever it was, they’d apparently found it.

He’d watched as they’d cuffed Reuben, then escorted him to the police cruiser.

Terrified they’d find him in the woods, Samuel had pulled his things together — including Katie’s quilt, and he’d run.

He flipped on his flashlight and pawed through the contents of his pack: a county map, his pocketknife, the trash from what he’d been eating — which was mostly junk food he and Katie had bought together in town — both of his changes of clothes, and the envelope from the LaGrange justice of the peace …

Samuel’s fingers lingered on the envelope, brushed across their names, but he pushed the memory away.

The map, he studied.

He’d need to stick to the smaller roads. Maybe he could pick up a ride once he’d traveled another ten miles. He’d have to find something to eat soon, and he needed to burn the bloodstained quilt.

As long as he continued to follow the creek south, he should be okay. Four miles, maybe five, then he could move out of the woods.

Making his way down to the water, he removed his shirt, then his undershirt. He dipped a corner of the cloth into the water and began scrubbing himself, cringing when the fabric met his skin. It would do no good to frighten people with his smell.

Once he was as presentable as he could make himself, Samuel changed into the cleaner set of clothes and bundled the dirty set, placing it into the bottom of the pack — on top of the trash.

The second set of clothes went above that, and the knife he slipped into his right pocket.

What to do with the envelope and papers?

He should burn them with the quilt. He knew he should.

Samuel started a small fire with kindling he collected from the forest, letting it build to a good blaze before pulling the knife out of his pocket and cutting the quilt into strips, which he fed to the flames. While the quilt burned, Samuel held the envelope and papers in his hand, trying to convince himself to throw them in the fire.

But instead he slipped them back into the bag and slung the bag over his shoulders. Then he reached down and picked up Katie’s duffle. What was he to do with that? The heaviness of his burdens suddenly seemed too much. He didn’t know how he could carry them.

One thing was certain.

He couldn’t wait here in the woods forever.

Kicking dirt onto the last of the fire, Samuel clutched the duffle, cinched his bag over his shoulder, and began to walk.

With each step, it seemed he could feel the weight of the words printed on the top sheet. But for those words, would Katie still be alive?

Samuel tried to focus on the ground, on making as little noise as possible, and on staying near the creek as he made his way south, but his mind insisted on going back …

“Nervous?” he asked, helping her out of the buggy.

“A little.” She smoothed her apron over her blue dress, then reached for his hand as they walked up the steps of the LaGrange County Courthouse.

Instead of opening the door for her, he pulled her toward a bench that had been placed to the side, under the branches of a silver maple tree. Most of the leaves were gone, but the day was warm for late October. Katie looked up when a yellow warbler lighted near them, sang once, then flew away. When she glanced back at him, he thought his heart might burst right out of his chest.

He loved her more than he’d ever thought possible.

More than he had last night when they’d stopped to rest at her aenti’s house. It had seemed the wise thing to do, and they hadn’t exactly lied when they told her that their business required they press on earlier than they had originally planned. It was but a stretching of the truth and would keep Katie’s family from worrying. By the time her mamm and dat realized Katie hadn’t actually stayed there, that Samuel wasn’t coming back when he was scheduled to, they would be married, and it would be too late for anyone to change their plans.

He’d wondered if he might have second thoughts as the moment grew closer, but the strength of his feelings for her surprised him. Was this what it was like to care for someone more than yourself? He found that he was more certain than ever that their plan was the right one.

In Shipshe he’d be able to find good work and provide for her like a husband should.

Still, he needed to allow Katie one more chance to change her mind.

“What is it, Samuel? Are you having second thoughts?” She smiled up at him then, her brown eyes looking fully into his, and he had to reach out and touch her face. He marveled that the brush of his hand could make her blush, but she did.

“I’m thinking a lot of things, Katie, but I’m not questioning the wisdom of what we’re doing. I want to give you a chance to stop here, though. I’ll take you back to your parents if that’s what you want, no harm done. “

Her eyes widened, but he pushed on.

“And though you know how I feel about continuing to work for your dat, I would do it. I’d do it because I care for you, and I wouldn’t want to rush you into anything or deprive you of an Amish wedding with your family. That’s one thing that weighs heavy on me now that we’re about to — “

Katie put her fingers to his lips and pressed lightly.

“Stop.”

“But — “

“No. Stop. I appreciate your concern, Samuel. And at first maybe I did agree because I saw how much it meant to you. But after we talked I began to watch how things were around my dat. You’re right. He clings to the old ways even more than the Ordnung requires. Perhaps because he is afraid, or because he doesn’t know how to move even with the changes that our bishop allows. I don’t know. But I see the burden it has brought upon my mamm.”

She looked up at the warbler, which had returned to a neighboring tree. “Not that I love him any less. I couldn’t, but I also think we have to do what is right for us. It’s gut and right for us to begin with our own life, together. “

“And the Amish wedding?”

“I brought the one quilt that meant the most. It’s in the buggy. You spoke with the Mennonite bishop?”

“Ya. He’s probably waiting inside. “

“Let’s go see him then. Let’s go be married, Samuel.”

S
ATURDAY MORNING
Esther sat beside her mother, Sara, yards of cloth for her wedding dress, and for a dress for Leah, stretched between them.

“This dress will be nice for Sundays,” Sara said, straightening the dark blue material before she pulled it through the treadle sewing machine. “I’ve always liked the way this color looks on you. Do you remember the dress you had for Christmas when you were fifteen?”

“
Ya
. We let it out three times before I would admit I’d outgrown it. I always loved that dress.” Esther paused in her hemming of Leah’s dress, fingered the soft cotton a moment before she looked up at her
mamm.
“Seems a long time ago. Hard to believe I’m more than double that age now. Thirty-one sounds old.”

Sara cocked her head, paused in turning the wheel of the old-fashioned Singer machine. When she began again, she had to raise her voice a little to be heard over the whirr as the stitches were laid down in a perfect row, pulling the seam together neatly. “Suppose it does sound old to you, but trust me when I say it’s not.”

Esther shook her head and began stitching again, whipping the hem by hand.

Sara stopped sewing, went to the
kaffi
pot sitting on her stove,
and refilled her cup. When she came back to the table, she sat with her back to the machine, facing her daughter instead. For Esther, looking at her mother was like looking in a mirror. Sara had the same dark hair — now tinged with gray — blue eyes, and thin frame. They differed only in height, which Esther had received from her father.

“Don’t believe me?” Sara asked.

“I suppose it seems that way to you. After all I’ve been through the last few years though, I feel old.”

“
Ya
. At your age, when the
kinner
are small yet, it can appear that way. I think in another year or so, you’ll feel younger.”

Esther glanced up, giving her a disbelieving look, but didn’t bother to argue, didn’t pause in her sewing.

“Do you remember when your
dat
first planted the orchard of dwarf apple trees in the southern pasture?”

“How could I forget? Every year we would wait for the harvest because we were allowed to eat the seconds. Every year I made myself sick eating too many.” Esther smiled at the memory. The Red Delicious apples had given her plenty of stomachaches at the time, but she had never been able to resist eating just one more.

Age and maturity had finally taught her to stop at two.

“What you might not remember is that after we’d been harvesting for five years, we had a late spring snow, very late.” Sara stared out her kitchen window. Though the orchard was not visible from the window, Esther knew she was seeing it. “The flowers had barely bloomed on the branches when the snow began to fall. Your father was certain it would ruin the year’s fruit, and possibly damage every tree in the orchard. We were new to apple growing then and have since learned just how sturdy apple trees are, but at the time he worried. He wanted to take all of my bedsheets and cover them. Instead I convinced him to go down to the phone shack and call the man he’d bought the trees from who owned an orchard in Ohio.”

She sipped the
kaffi
and smiled.

“I don’t remember any of this,” Esther admitted.

“You wouldn’t. You were very young at the time, worried more about your lessons and what would happen at recess the next day.”

“How many of the trees did he lose?”

“None. Just the blossoms.” Sara shook her head, as she carried her cup to the sink. “It’s not what he lost that I was thinking of though. The man from Ohio told him that the storm would make the trees stronger. He told your
dat
not to worry, not to fret over what he had no chance of controlling. The trees were young then. Now they’re mature, and your father — both of us, truthfully — worry less about storms. We know the trees can handle whatever nature brings.”

Esther stared at her for a few seconds, before finding her voice. “Would you be comparing me to an apple tree?”

Sara kissed her on the top of the head, making Esther feel for all the world like a small
kind
again. “No,
dochder.
I’m comparing you to your father.”

As Esther finished Leah’s dress and new apron, then helped her daughter try it on, the daughter whom she loved more dearly than the breath she pulled into her own lungs, she kept thinking of her mother’s story. She kept thinking of the trees in the orchard. Esther had grown up there, and maybe they were the reason she loved to garden so.

After Seth’s death, when little else could sooth her soul, when reading the Bible seemed to bring more questions than answers, Esther had been able to walk through her garden and find the closeness to her Lord that she needed.

When she’d knelt in the dirt she’d been able to pray.

When she’d trimmed away the flowers’ dead buds, she’d finally been able to cry.

And when she’d seen the new blossoms of spring, she’d felt a tiny sprig of hope, and yes — she’d finally been able to thank God again for all he’d left her.

The land.

Her family.

Leah.

Still, Esther did feel old, and it was hard to believe she would feel younger as the years passed. She would admit she was like her father in many ways — that part of her mother’s story she understood. And she even understood that hard times created strength in each person.

But younger as the years passed?

No, that was beyond her ability to imagine.

Just then, Tobias arrived to take Esther into town.

“You have your invitations?” Sara asked.

“Yes. They’re all here in my bag.”

“Why can’t I go, Mamm?” Leah knelt in the dirt outside, drawing something with her finger and looking forlorn.

Before Esther could think of an answer, her father, Obe, was there, kneeling beside Leah. Esther had always considered him as something of a mountain of a man — nearing six-four or six-five and muscular in the way of men who worked the land. As he’d grown older, he’d retained the fitness he’d needed, but something had softened about him. She could see it as she watched him with Leah.

“Thought you were going to help me catch some fish for dinner?” Obe asked.

Leah didn’t look up immediately, but she did dust her hands on her apron. “I’m not a
gut
fisher.”

“You will be today. Your
onkel
Saul told me they were fairly jumping out of the creek.”

“Fish don’t jump,
Daadi
.” Leah began to giggle.

“Well, now. We’ll have to walk down to the creek and see. Perhaps we should take the little butterfly net you received for Christmas just in case any happen to jump onto the bank. We could catch them in the air.” Obe reached out with his hand and pantomimed the act of catching and wrestling a small fish, finally subduing and putting it into his pocket.

Leah turned and threw her arms around her grandpa’s neck. “I left my butterfly net in the family room. Come with me to get it.”

“
Ya
, and maybe while we’re in the house your
mammi
will give us a snack to eat at the creek.”

Esther mouthed a thank-you as she climbed into the buggy. When her father winked at her and waved good-bye, she saw it — she saw the younger man her mother had spoken of. When she’d been growing up, he’d been weighed down with burdens. Where were those now? Had they disappeared? Or had he learned to lay them down?

“You’re awfully quiet today.” Tobias directed the mare onto the road.

“Thinking of something my
mamm
said earlier.”

“Anything you want to share?”

Esther sighed. “I’m not sure I understand it completely, but it was about apple trees and how we grow younger as we get older.”

Tobias’ laughter echoed down the road as they began to make their stops, inviting friends and family to their wedding the following week.

The concern about Reuben remained with them throughout the trip, something Esther knew they’d both live with until his situation was resolved.

But the image of the trees — mature, strong, and fruitful — along with that of her father, carrying Leah back into the house to find a net for catching flying fish they might eat for their evening meal, gave her hope that God remained in control.

Callie had enjoyed a busy Saturday morning. It was past one when things had finally settled down enough to take Max for a quick trot around the garden. The weather was so nice she’d left him sleeping in the sun and had come inside to heat a bowl of soup for her lunch. She was cleaning up her dishes in the quilt shop’s kitchen when the bell over the door rang again.

Callie was surprised to see not only Esther, but also Tobias. As far as she knew, Tobias had never been in the quilt shop before.

Immediately her mind went to Reuben, and she hoped they weren’t in town because something else had cropped up with his case. Then she noticed the smile on Esther’s face and she relaxed. This was definitely a good-news visit.

“It’s so nice to see you both,” Callie greeted them.

“Nice to see you as well. Tobias, you remember Callie.”

“Hello.” He tipped his hat, and Callie thought of Ollie from the old Laurel and Hardy re-runs she’d watched with Rick. Tobias was such a tall man, and a perfect match for Esther. Not just because of his height, but because it was plain he was completely smitten with her.

His hand hovered near her elbow, and a smile played on his lips as if he were about to reveal the world’s best-kept secret.

“What brings you into town today?”

Esther stepped toward the counter, pulled an envelope from her bag, and placed it on the glass between them, her fingers lingering for a moment on the edges. Callie’s name was written in beautiful handwriting across the front. “We wanted to invite you to our wedding next Thursday. It will be at my parents’ home. I wrote directions for you on the back of the invitation.”

Callie picked up the envelope, unsure whether she was supposed to read it now or wait.

“You can open it.” Tobias stepped even closer to Esther. “She’s been working on them for over a week — “

“Melinda helped.”

“They both did a
wunderbaar
job. Look and see.”

Callie popped open the envelope and slid out the card, which she couldn’t read a word of. “It’s in German.”

“
Ya
, well the service is in German too, as all of our church services are.”

“You can make out our names though.” Tobias chuckled and
pointed to their names on the card. “Names pretty much read the same whether in the new language or the old.”

“Also you can tell the time. The service begins at eight thirty in the morning.” Esther gazed up at Tobias as she spoke, and Callie inexplicably felt tears sting her eyes.

“That’s wonderful. I think morning weddings are beautiful, though I’ve never been to one quite that early.” Callie wondered if she’d ever stop being surprised by how different some things were between the Amish and
Englischers.
About the time she thought they were really more alike than different, she was confronted with something like an early morning wedding.

“Actually, our weddings last all day.” Tobias chuckled when Callie looked from the card to him to Esther, then back down again. “She’s not accustomed to our ways, I see.”

“Callie learns fast, but this is her first wedding season.”

“Did you say all day?”

“
Ya
. The service is approximately four hours …” Tobias rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Followed by the meal, which will take another two.” Esther pulled her bag up over her shoulder.

“And then the singing and supper,” Tobias added. “We’ll be handing out candy bars after supper so you won’t want to leave early. Excellent chocolate.”

“I think you’ll enjoy the experience.” Esther looked up at Tobias. “Not many
Englischers
have the opportunity to witness an Amish wedding. I hope you can come. Actually it would mean a lot to me — to me and Tobias — if you could be there.”

Callie knew then she would go, even if it meant closing the shop for the day, though that probably wouldn’t be necessary. “Lydia is working full-time now, so I’m sure she can watch the shop for me. Unless she’s going to be at the wedding too?”

“I hadn’t thought to invite her, no.” Esther shook her head. “Say, Callie. Would you mind if I used your restroom?”

“Of course not. You know where it is.”

Callie was left standing at the counter, staring at Tobias. She probably hadn’t talked to Tobias three times since she’d moved to Shipshe, and never alone. Like most Amish men she had met, he seemed content to stand in silence.

Her mind drifting back to Reuben, Callie felt like she needed to offer her sympathy. Perhaps while Esther was gone would be a good time. “Tobias, I don’t know Reuben very well, but you know … after my run-in with the law a few months ago I can certainly sympathize.”

Tobias nodded. After a few seconds, he removed his coat, folded it neatly in half, and set it on the counter. Then in a conspiratorial voice, he said, “Half of Shipshe was afraid the new shop owner might end up in the pokey for good. You gave us quite a scare. Not that anyone would think you were capable of murder — Esther and the girls certainly didn’t think so.”

He stood straight again and grinned.

“Tobias Fisher. Are you teasing me about being arrested?”

“You have to admit, it didn’t look real
gut
being new in town and all.”

“It certainly didn’t. I was mortally embarrassed. Not to mention, I didn’t even know Andrew Gavin or Shane Black.” Callie’s stomach flipped at the memory of sitting across the table from Shane inside the Shipshewana Police Department. He didn’t intimidate her — not exactly. The man was infuriating on one hand and intriguing on the other. “I thought Gavin might be incompetent and Black … overzealous possibly.”

“And what do you think now?” The joking suddenly gone, Tobias studied her carefully, waiting for her answer.

“Now I think they’re good men who are intent on doing their job. But, Tobias, why won’t Reuben speak to them? Why won’t he tell them what he knows? It might help to gain his freedom, at least until his trial.”