A Plain Love Song (44 page)
“He would’ve given me a ride, but I didn’t want him to.” She might not have been able to leave had he come with her. “I didn’t want him to have to do it, knowing how much he wanted me to stay. It seemed cruel.”
“So you decided to walk fifteen miles instead.” Charlene wheeled the car around and headed to Branson. “Don’t you worry. Stick with Aunt Charlene and you’ll be home in no time.”
Adah didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing, but it was time she found out.
W
hen the Hart house came into view on the edge of a lake that shivered in the sun now hanging low in the west, Matthew straightened in his seat, simultaneously relieved they’d made it despite RaeAnne’s driving and shot through with adrenaline at what came next. After months, he would finally be face to face with Adah. What the rest of his life would look like hung in the balance, shifting one way and then the other as he chose the words he hoped would convince her to come home.
Molly and Daniel stirred in the backseat. Molly leaned forward. “This is it? It’s very pretty. I like lakes.”
“Molly, we’re not here to talk about the lake. We need…”
The sentence died in his throat. A figure sauntered across the grass in the distance, carrying a fishing pole and a line heavy with freshly caught fish. Jackson Hart. His chest and feet were bare. A pair of jean shorts rode down on his hips. From the looks of him, he’d been spending his time lounging in the sun getting a tan. Half-naked.
Jackson strolled a few more feet and slowed. He’d seen the car. After a minute, he veered in their direction.
So this was the man with whom Adah had been spending all her time. The one who had kissed her. Had he kissed her again? No wonder she had only written Matthew one letter. Matthew gripped the door handle and tried to lasso his anger to the ground. Even as he did,
he recognized the overpowering emotion boiling inside him was not anger. Hurt joined together with jealousy in a bitter brew that burned his throat.
I’m sorry, God.
A bigger man would not let jealousy stand in the way of what was right and good.
“It’s Jackson.” RaeAnne shoved open her door. “Jackson!”
Jackson’s somber expression disappeared, swallowed by a grin. “Hey, sis. You’re a sight for sore eyes. What are you doing here?”
Matthew swiveled toward the backseat. “Molly, stay in the car.”
“But I want to—”
“Stay in the car.”
He opened his door and stood, the muscles in his legs cramped and weak. From the long ride. Not emotion. For the first time, he was aware of his sweaty shirt stuck to his back and the faded material of work pants that had seen better days. He pulled his straw hat down on his forehead and shut the door with a gentle shove.
Daniel had his door open. They exchanged glances over the roof of the car. Daniel bent down again and spoke to Molly through the open back window. “Let Matthew talk to him first. If Adah’s here, you can talk to her inside.”
Inside away from Jackson Hart with his bare chest for all the world to see. Conceit? Or indifference to what the world thought?
RaeAnne shot across the yard and threw her arms around Jackson. He staggered back a step. The dog raced around the two of them, barking wildly. “Hush up, Cap, hush! Hey, hey, you’ll make me drop the fish.” His gaze connected with Matthew’s and the smile disappeared as it wandered to Daniel. He disentangled himself from his sister’s arms. “What are they doing here with you?”
“They hired me to drive them up here.”
“You? They really are crazy. Don’t they know you flunked your driver’s test? Do Mom and Dad know?”
“They came for Adah.” RaeAnne ignored the questions. “Where is she? Is she in the house? Shall I go get her? She’s gonna freak when she sees them. This is Matthew, her—”
“Shut up.” Jackson handed the fish to his sister and tossed the rod in the grass. “I know who he is.”
“And I’m her brother.” Daniel stepped up so he stood next to Matthew. “I came for my sister.”
A blank expression stole all emotion from Jackson’s face. He crossed the yard so he stood directly in front of Matthew as if Daniel’s presence meant nothing to him. “She’s not here.”
Of all the things Matthew had expected him to say, this wasn’t one of them.
“Your mother said she came here with you,” Daniel pressed. “She said your dad—”
“I said she’s not here.”
Matthew put a hand on Daniel’s arm. He jerked away, his face the color of beets. “Where is she?”
“I’m Molly, Matthew’s sister. Adah’s a friend of mine. She needs her family.” To Matthew’s chagrin, Molly had slipped from the car. She walked right past him and into Jackson’s path. “She needs her faith. She can’t be baptized in her faith if she doesn’t come home. Do you want that for her?”
Conflicting emotions shot across Jackson’s face. Matthew recognized the same emotions he’d been feeling all summer long. Frustration. Longing. Anger. Hurt. Jackson licked lips cracked and dry from the sun. He knelt and wrapped an arm around the dog, who kept yipping and attacking his owner’s face with a long, pink tongue. “Like I said, she’s not here.” He rubbed between the dog’s ears. “Truth be told she left. You just missed her.”
Molly reached down and gave the dog a pet. “That must be awful hard for you.”
Jackson stood and tucked his thumbs in the belt loops of his shorts. His dark, whiskered chin came up. “You don’t know nothing about me.”
“Like I said, I know Adah.” Molly’s voice was soft and sweet. Matthew felt his own anger drain away. All the pent-up emotion of the long summer receded. Molly had a way about her. Richard Bontrager was a lucky man. “If she came here with you it was because she trusted you and she thought you were a good person.”
The bravado drained from the man’s face. For the first time, the dark circles around his eyes and the strain around his mouth registered. Jackson hadn’t slept in a while. He looked like Matthew felt. “I also know some things about Adah.”
He’d known Adah one summer. Matthew had known her all his life. “What’s that?”
“She’s a songbird. You can put a songbird in a cage, but you can’t keep her from singing.”
“The question is whether Branson is the cage or New Hope.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Why do you think I let her go?” The question hung between them for a few seconds. “If you’re gonna catch her, you better hurry.”
“Catch her?”
“She went to the bus station. RaeAnne knows how to get there.”
“Thank you.” Matthew touched the brim of his hat, wishing he knew what to say to this man. The pain carved on his face looked so familiar. “Sorry.”
“The best man won.”
“It wasn’t a game. No one wins.”
“I know.” Jackson slid his hand in his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, white against the dark tan of his fingers. “Do me a favor. Give this to her.”
His voice cracked. He flung it at Matthew and brushed past him without looking back.
Matthew grasped the paper, feeling as if he held a sharp sword. “What is it?”
“One last song.” Jackson kept walking, the dog following along after him. “For her.”
Matthew let his fingers close around it, tightening until the paper crumpled.
Adah had all the songs she needed.
A
dah smoothed the bus ticket. If she kept crumpling it with her sweaty hands the driver wouldn’t be able to read it. The incessant hum of people talking and the periodic burst of singsong words over the loudspeaker made her head ache. The air in the bus station was rank with the stale smell of people and dust and old food. She wiggled on the hard plastic seat, wishing Charlene would go home. She’d been sitting by her side for over an hour. Everything had been said already. Charlene could go back to her house and give some comfort to her nephew.
“Stop fidgeting, girl, you’re making me crazy.” Charlene crossed her arms over her ample chest. “It’ll be all right.”
“Of course it won’t.” Adah immediately regretted her tart tone and surly words. “I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but it’ll take a lot more than words to make this right.”
“You already took the first steps. Saying goodbye to Jackson and buying that ticket—you’re already back on track.”
She didn’t know Daed. Or Matthew. Would either of them take her back? If Matthew wanted her back, why hadn’t he come for her? Maybe Luke had told him not to. In all likelihood she would have to meet with Luke and Thomas and make amends for her behavior, even though she was still in her rumspringa. She would do it, do anything necessary to sit on the bench on Sunday morning and to sing those familiar hymns with her family and her community. To have joy in her song again.
“You’re right. I’m just a little nervous.” She managed a weak smile. “You really don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”
“You said that three times already. That nephew of mine may be a stubborn fool, but I’m not the type of person who lets a young woman like you wait at the bus station by herself.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will. You got guts, girl.”
“If I had guts I would stay and sing with the Dillon sisters.”
“No. No, it takes way more guts to go home and admit you were wrong and ask your family to forgive you.”
“My family will forgive me.” Adah swallowed the tears this statement wrung from her. “That’s what we do. We forgive. God calls us to forgive.”
“Then why are you so worried about your young man?”
“He’s not my young man anymore.” She clutched her bag to her chest as if it could warm the cold loneliness of this truth. “He might forgive, but that doesn’t mean he’ll risk being hurt again.”
“I don’t know about that. He looks prepared to forgive to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“There aren’t a whole lot of Amish men running around Branson, especially handsome ones like this particular young man.” Charlene cocked her head. “I can see why you’re smitten. Jackson really didn’t have a chance.”
Adah swiveled. In that moment, her breath ran away from her. She couldn’t swallow. Her hands fluttered as if going somewhere. She tried to corral them. She stood, but sat down again when she realized her legs wouldn’t hold her.
“I take it I’m right. So that’s Matthew.”
Adah nodded and remembered to close her mouth, finally.
Charlene stood and held out a hand. “Matthew, I’m Charlene. Pleased to meet you.” They shook. She relinquished his hand and patted Adah’s shoulder. “I reckon I can leave you now. You’ll get home for sure, one way or the other.”
She bent and kissed Adah’s forehead. “It was a pleasure knowing you, Adah Knepp. Take care.”
“Take care,” Adah whispered, but Charlene had already turned away. Adah would’ve given anything to get her to stay for a minute or two longer. Until she found her words and her voice.
Matthew seemed to have the same dilemma. He stared at his boots for a few seconds and then raised his head to meet her gaze. His jaw worked. “I didn’t imagine having this talk here.” He glanced around. “With so many people around.”
She nodded. Her fingers ached from gripping them together. She tried to loosen them. Nothing happened. “I wanted to talk to you too.” The words came out in a hoarse garble. “I meant to talk to you first thing.”
“First thing?”
“When I got home.” She held up her ticket. “My bus comes in a few minutes.”
A voice burst forth over the loud speakers, announcing her bus had begun boarding.
“It’s here, I mean, now.”
The words came out in a stutter and her voice trailed away as if she had no control over it.
“You need to get a refund.”
“I do?”
He nodded.
She waited.
He shoved his hat back and stared at the floor.
“What are you doing here?”
“Jackson said you were coming here. How come he didn’t bring you?”
He’d talked to Jackson. Adah squashed the selfish thought that she was glad she hadn’t been there for that talk. “I didn’t want to put him out any more than I already had.”
She didn’t want to give him any more time to try to convince her to stay. Any more time to stare at her with mournful, accusing eyes. Any more time to make her feel horribly guilty for doing what was right, even at the cost of his heart. “I figure I can make my own way.”
“That’s obvious.”
The curtness of his tone jerked her from reliving the painful farewell with Jackson.
“Where’s Elizabeth?”
“The Gringriches have moved onto their own farm.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Elizabeth’s not for me.” Matthew’s jaw pulsed as he gritted his teeth. “You jumped ahead like you always do.”
“So I have no one to blame but myself for this mess.” She’d seen them together and ran away without giving him a chance to explain. All this heartache and it was her fault. “Why did you come?”
He raised his head and met her gaze. “I can’t. Not here. Too many people.”
