A Perfect Square (8 page)

This morning she could appreciate all the evenings of work she’d spent weeding and deadheading plants. Finally the small area had taken on the beauty it must have had when her Aunt Daisy had been alive.

Regret reached out and squeezed Callie’s heart, stealing some of the loveliness from the fall morning. Why hadn’t she visited her aunt more while she was alive? Aunt Daisy had been her last living relative, and she’d been too busy with her job as a pharmaceutical rep to even fly up on the holidays.

Max barked at a squirrel, bringing her back to the present. She turned to call him back to her side and nearly tripped over an old, all-but-rotten birdhouse. Buried among the chrysanthemums, somehow she had missed it in her early gardening forays, or perhaps she’d been too busy to see it.

Now she squatted down and righted the tiny house. Fastened to the top was a miniature bird, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. Over the hole, where an actual bird might enter, were
words. All Callie could make out was a capital letter A, so she used her thumb and forefinger to rub at the caked-on dirt.

Tiny musical notes, stenciled in black, trailed away from the words, down the side of the house. “Amazing grace … How sweet the sound.”

And suddenly Callie was four again, sitting on her mother’s lap on Daisy’s front porch. It must have been before her aunt had moved to live above the shop, because Callie clearly remembered a yard overshadowed with large trees and a stone wall that separated Aunt Daisy’s property from her neighbor’s. The wall wasn’t tall, and Callie had decided to climb on top of it, though her mother had warned her not to. Standing up, she had been able to see far, able to see the neighbor’s house. When she’d begun to walk, her Sunday shoes had slipped on the stones, and she’d tumbled into the grass.

Daddy had been there almost before she’d settled into the grass, checking her and proclaiming her okay. But she’d wanted mother. And so her momma had rocked her and sung “Amazing Grace” as Callie’s tears turned to hiccups and then disappeared completely.

Max barked once, jarring Callie back to the present once again.

She righted the birdhouse, dusted off her hands, and turned toward the front of the shop.

An elderly man stood at her gate, waving at her with his cane.

Max looked to her for permission.

“No, Max. Heel.”

The dog came to her then and walked calmly by her side.

“I’m sorry, sir. We’re not open for another hour.”

The man was quite old. Callie would have guessed that he was maybe in his eighties — his skin weathered and worn thin like the pages of a well-read book. Though his head was bald, he sported a long white beard. Dark brown eyes appraised her and the dog in one quick swoop.

“You’re her all right.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the one. I know, because you have the dog and you wear matching clothes — like in the paper.”

“Can I help you, sir?” He didn’t look Amish exactly. No hat, for one thing. She thought he might be Mennonite, but didn’t the Mennonite also wear hats?

His gaze jumped around — taking in Max, the shop, her, then back to Max. The man didn’t wear a jacket of any type, only dark pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and the typical suspenders. And the cane he gripped in his hands.

“Sir, can I call someone for you?”

“No. I don’t need anyone else. I need you.”

“Me?”

He whacked the cane against the fence, causing Max to emit a low growl.

“Are you deaf? Maybe if you moved closer you’d be able to understand me. Surely you’re not afraid of an old man.”

“Why don’t you lower your cane?” Callie aimed for pleasant but firm.

The old guy looked at the smoothly carved cane, stared at it as if he was seeing it for the first time. His hand touched the wood. Trembling fingers ran up and down the smooth surface. It seemed to calm him a bit when he reached the top, when his fingers found and paused over some engraving that she couldn’t make out.

“Are you going to ask me inside or not?”

“As I explained, the shop doesn’t open for another hour.”

“Not interested in quilts. Have plenty of those.” He began to turn in a circle. “Sharon sewed the prettiest quilts you have ever seen. My daughter-in-law tries, but she can’t put the squares together quite right. Sharon always quilted a perfect square.”

He stopped in his circle, looked over at Callie, and shook his head. Max padded over to the fence and stopped next to it. The
old man reached out over the short fence, his hand still shaking, and ran his fingers through Max’s coat.

Callie realized then that something was wrong. The look of confusion, the way the old man seemed clear one moment, then foggy the next, his disorientation. Suddenly the training she’d left in Texas kicked into gear. “Why don’t we go inside for a minute? Maybe I can call someone to help you.”

“I told you already. I want
you
to help me. I want you to find my
dochder
.” His voice rose in pitch, and he gripped his cane with renewed vigor.

“All right. I was about to make some tea, and Max hasn’t had his breakfast yet. Perhaps you’d join us while you tell me about your daughter.”

The man thumped his cane against the ground and considered her offer. “Isn’t proper for a man to go into a woman’s home with her alone, but seeing as this is your business it might be allowed.”

“And we do have Max as a chaperone.” Callie passed through the gate and did her best to guide him across the parking lot. Where had he walked from? There was no horse and buggy or car on the street or in the lot. Once inside, while he was eating, she’d call Andrew Gavin.

The thought of Andrew calmed the anxiousness in her stomach. He’d know what to do.

Perhaps someone had lost their grandfather.

E
STHER LOOKED DOWN
at Deborah’s hands on top of her own. She needed to calm herself. She needed to rein in her emotions.

Leah’s voice pierced through her heartache. She was in the kitchen, saying something to Mary. Esther heard her soft laugh and wanted to drop her head into her arms and weep again.

Leah laughing … finally.

Now — like the last time — it was all about to be ripped away.

Life wasn’t fair.

“I’ll ready my buggy, drop Joshua off at your
schwesder
’s place, then head into town.” Jonas’ voice was calm and steady.

“
Ya
, and I’ll drive Esther’s buggy. She doesn’t need to be driving. Esther, would you like Jonas to take Leah as well?”

“Take Leah?” Esther wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her dress. “Take her where?”

“To Miriam’s again — she’s the closest from here.”

“I don’t think … I’d like her to stay with me.” Esther glanced from Jonas to Deborah, then down to the mug of tea Deborah had pressed back into her hands.

“It’s growing cold, but it will still help. If you want Leah to come with us, then I’ll take Joshua as well.”

“Who are we going to see?”

“I’d say your first stop is by Bishop Elam’s. No doubt he’ll already have heard, but he might have some important words of advice for us.” Jonas ran his hand over and through his hair. “And the man’s prayers wouldn’t hurt either.”

“Then Adalyn Landt’s.” Deborah squeezed her arm lightly.

Esther had started to feel a glimmer of hope. At the mention of Adalyn’s name, however, despair crept back in. “I don’t think so. I’ve been up since four, remember? Running this through every possible angle. Surely Adalyn heard about the girl. I think all of Shipshe heard about what was going on at Reuben’s farm. If she’d wanted to help, she would have shown up. I imagine that Adalyn has had quite enough of our special cases.”

Deborah smiled and pulled Esther to her feet as Jonas moved to the backdoor. “I guess you’ve been too busy with wedding plans to know everything that is going on in Shipshe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Adalyn was in South Bend yesterday. Shopping for those fancy bags of hers. She didn’t get back until late last night. Somehow, even though it was after nine, she heard about the girl and drove all the way out here, wanting to know if she should go on to Reuben’s house. We told her not to, and now I’m sorry for that. As far as we knew, no arrests had been made.” Deborah stopped, turned, and enfolded her friend in a hug. “Maybe if we’d sent her on, all of this could have been avoided. I’m sure it’s only a misunderstanding.”

“You couldn’t have known. But you think she will want to help?”

“
Ya
.” Deborah smiled as she tugged her toward the kitchen. “I believe her exact words were that another tangle with Black would make her day.”

“Make her day?”

“That’s what she said.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand
Englischers
at all.”

“The point being that she looked forward to helping you. I think she views Shane as an equal adversary, someone worth competing against — rather like our buggy races.”

“This isn’t a game though, Deborah. This could be Reuben’s life.” Despair settled over Esther like a heavy quilt as her dreams for the next couple weeks — dreams for her future — wavered.

“She knows that.” Deborah slipped lunch pails into each of her
kinner
’s hands and hurried them toward the backdoor. Then she turned and grasped Esther’s cold fingers in her own. “She knows that, but she believes in showing no fear. We know fear isn’t of the Lord, and we’re fortunate to have someone on our side who believes the same, someone who can navigate the
Englisch
legal system.”

Deborah’s four school-aged children kissed her as they left and said good-bye to Esther. Both women watched as the little group trudged out the door and down the lane — Jacob and Joseph running a few steps ahead; Martha moving slower and holding hands with Mary.

The walk to the one-room schoolhouse would take them fifteen minutes. The schoolhouse had been built on a piece of land owned by Jonas’ cousin, and it housed approximately thirty-five students. At the rate they were growing, another schoolhouse would need to be built next summer and the group split. If she and Tobias had decided to live on his
grossdaddi
’s farm, Leah would have attended the same school as Deborah’s children. If —

“Tell me what’s really bothering you.” Deborah focused on rinsing their two cups as she spoke. “I’ve known you since we were
kinner
, and I’ve never seen you so upset. It is more than Reuben being taken into custody, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know how to explain.” Esther turned so her back was at the sink and she could watch Leah play with Joshua on the floor at the far side of the kitchen.

“Try.”

“I’ve grown to love Reuben. He’s become like a
bruder
to me.”

“Of course.”

“But — “

“But?” Deborah turned and leaned against the cabinet as well. They stood side by side, the material of their dresses barely touching.

It was so familiar, so ordinary, that Esther found herself able to let the words slip out, the words and worries that had been circling in her mind and shredding her heart for the last three hours.

“I never thought I’d meet another, Deborah. Never expected to love again.” She paused, searching for a way to express all that had happened so quickly. “I’ve known Tobias for years.”

“But your heart wasn’t ready.”

“My heart wasn’t ready.
Ya
, perhaps you’re right. And then he sat down beside me, asked if I was going to eat my apple strudel.” Esther shook her head, as her fingers found and traced the ties of her prayer
kapp.
“He’s the most gentle, loving man, and somehow I think Seth would approve.”

“Of course he would. Seth would want you to be happy. He’d want Leah to have a
dat
in her life.”

Esther nodded, tears once again stinging her eyes, causing her throat to tighten. “In the last few months, I’ve come to realize that Tobias and Reuben are more than cousins though. They’re more like twins. I think you can understand that better than most people — having Jacob and Joseph.”

“
Ya
, my boys are like one sometimes. They finish each other’s sentences and carry each other’s burdens, even at their young age.”

Esther nodded. “That’s exactly how it is with Tobias and Reuben. If Reuben were convicted of this, I don’t know how Tobias would bear it. And now, I don’t think …” Her voice shook, and she pressed her lips together to stop the sob from escaping. She’d begun though, and the need to express her deepest fear won over the agony of verbalizing it. “I don’t know if he’ll be able to go on with the wedding.”

Deborah turned toward her, touched her face, and forced her to meet her gaze. “You don’t think he’d call it off, do you?”

“I don’t know. Don’t you see? On the one hand, he might call it off, because he needs to be there for Reuben. On the other hand, he might go on with it, but his heart wouldn’t be with us anymore — with me and Leah. Which would be worse?”

“But his obligation to Reuben doesn’t stretch that far.”

“It’s more than that, more than a feeling of responsibility. I’ve seen them, how they are together … like your boys. It will be as if Tobias is being accused as well. If Reuben has to stand trial, then Tobias will be there with him. And if Reuben is made to stay in the
Englisch
jail, if he is convicted of this terrible thing …”

Esther’s right arm began to tremble, and she clutched it to her side with her left hand. “I think it will be better to postpone our wedding. And I don’t want to sound selfish, but I want to ask,
Why me?
One girl has died, and Reuben’s future lies in the balance, and I’m worried about a wedding. It is selfish, but there you have it. It’s as if a big hand has come down and wiped away our happiness. As if I was allowed to see future happiness, but I’m not going to be allowed to have it.”

“Oh, Esther. Honey. The hand of God is not like that.”

“Are you sure? How can you know?”

Instead of answering, Deborah pulled her into an embrace. Esther allowed it, but she was still left with the image that had haunted her since the delivery boy had arrived so early to shatter her day … the image of a giant hand about to reach down and wipe away her future, an image of darkness and fear.

Callie flipped the switch to ON, sending water through the little coffeemaker. She didn’t use it to make coffee. Too many of her customers preferred tea. When she first arrived in Shipshe, she was a Starbucks drinker herself, and she still liked a nice strong
cup first thing in the morning. But Deborah was winning her over to the pleasures of a nice hot cup of tea.

Or perhaps it was the Indiana weather.

The front windows of her shop rattled lightly with the fall wind, reminding her she would soon experience her first Indiana winter. Her childhood memories of visiting her aunt all took place around the milder months. Mother used to proclaim that the Indiana winters were why they lived in the south and that Daisy could come and see them if she wanted to. But her aunt never had.

Each year Callie had received a Christmas postcard from her aunt instead. One even had the quilt shop on the front, covered in snow. Callie shivered at the thought. In Houston, a cold front had been anytime the temperature plummeted below sixty.

Walking back toward her unexpected guest, Callie noted the sun was making its way through the front display windows. She wasn’t having a problem coping with an Indiana fall — the dazzling display of colors had lived up to her expectations and more.

“I have several types of teas here and a few pastries. The hot water will be ready in a minute.” She set the tray down on the table in the back sitting area. “Now Mr. — “

“Bontrager. Name’s Bontrager.”

“Mr. Bontrager, what would you like to drink?”

“That dog of yours looks hungry. Most Amish people keep their animals outside.” He reached up and combed his fingers through his solid white beard, reminding Callie again of the snow that was to come.

When Bontrager had stepped into the shop, he’d reached up as if to remove his hat, then looked around in confusion. His hand had rubbed across his shiny bald head instead. He’d finally shrugged and followed Max toward the chairs in the back area. “We don’t abide animals in the house.”

“Yes, I realize that, but Max sort of guards the shop for me. And as you can see, I’m not Amish.”

“Does he eat?”

“He does.”

Bontrager picked up a shortbread cookie and threw it at Max, who caught it midair. He also swallowed it whole, not pausing for such niceties as chewing. The dog licked his chops once, wagged his tail, and waited for more.

Smiling as if he’d seen a circus bear perform a trick, Bontrager picked up a pastry.

“Actually, I prefer to feed him dog food. Sweets aren’t terribly good for him.”

“He looks hungry to me.”

“Well, he probably is. I usually feed him as soon as we come in from his morning yard time.”

Bontrager leaned forward and looked under the table, then around the side of it. “Don’t see any food. Did he eat it already?”

“No, he didn’t. Mr. Bontrager — “

“Say, did you have some water to go with this tea? I prefer apple cinnamon myself.” He’d picked up the basket of tea bags and begun pawing through it, his concern for Max apparently forgotten.

Callie closed her eyes and mumbled a brief prayer for patience. She hadn’t been much of a praying person before coming to Shipshe, just as she hadn’t been much of a tea drinker. Funny how a place, how the people in a place, could influence you.

Deborah, Esther, and Melinda, with their quiet ways, had made an impression on her — sometimes more than she realized. Perhaps that was why she’d found herself walking through the doors of the local Presbyterian church the last several Sundays, a first in many years and one she knew would have made her Aunt Daisy smile.

Bontrager placed the basket back on the table and gazed around the room.

“Place looks about the same. I believe even the flooring is

unchanged.” He thumped his cane against the hardwood floor. “Ever thought of updating?”

Attempting to keep up with the turns and twists in the old man’s conversation was like trying to have a sensible talk with Deborah’s youngest. With Joshua, she never quite understood his one-word commands, and he bounced from one need to another before she could answer the previous one. Which reminded Callie, she hadn’t called Gavin yet.

Someone had to be looking for the old guy.

“Hold that question. I believe our hot water is ready.” Callie rushed back to the kitchen, called Gavin on her cell phone, and said, “Get over here.” Then she poured two mugs of hot water and carried it back out to where Bontrager and Max were still waiting.

“So you’ve been here before?” She set the mug in front of him, even plucked a package of apple cinnamon tea from the basket, but Bontrager didn’t appear interested.

Callie moved to the chair beside him, opened the bag for him, and dipped it into the steaming water. Clutching the hot mug appeared to calm him a bit, though it was still too hot to drink. He inhaled deeply, seeming to enjoy the scent of the apple cinnamon tea, and closed his eyes.

When he looked at her again, his eyes had taken on a faraway look. In fact, as he gazed around the store, she was sure he wasn’t seeing what she was seeing at all.

“
Ya
, course I’ve been here before. You know I stop in regularly. Come in to the Quilt and Shop every time we come to town. It’s not easy on a man, what with the roads impassable so much of the time. But I made a promise to Sharon when we moved here.”

His hand began to shake as he raised the mug and took a small sip. “It’s been hard on her, leaving her family and all. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked her to come west. Maybe I should have waited until there was more of a town, a bigger district. I didn’t know though. Didn’t know women counted on such things.”