Lorie's Heart (18 page)

Suddenly she was angry with her father. If he had never held these secrets to begin with, then none of this would have happened. But he had, and there was no going back.

“Thanks for the ride, Sadie. Now go home.” She started up the stairs that led to the storage room. She had to get the letters to take with her. There were a few more left in the box that she hadn't read. Maybe they would give her more insight into her father's thoughts. Maybe they would take away this anger she now felt toward him.

“Lorie.” Sadie tied the horse to the hitching post and ran up the stairs behind her. “Please.”

But she had to see this through. She didn't want to leave and never see her brother and sisters again. But she didn't want to stay and pretend that nothing had happened, that her father hadn't lied to them all for twenty years or more. It was something she just couldn't do.

She let herself into the storeroom and wound her way through the supplies until she reached the little area she had pared out for herself. She wanted to take her painting supplies but she wasn't sure if they would fit into the car. She could take her box of paints, the box of letters, and a few of her completed works. Her easel and the rest of her paintings would have to stay for another day, if she ever came back for them at all.

“What are all these?” Sadie stared at the canvases like she had never seen anything like them before.

“Paintings.”

“But where did they come from?”

“I painted them.”

“You?” The one word was whispered and incredulous, like the entire concept was more than Sadie could comprehend. “You've been painting. A lot.”

Lorie stacked the paintings to one side and gathered up the rest of her things. It would take several trips to get everything downstairs. What did she have now but time? She pushed past Sadie and trudged down the stairs.

Zach still hadn't made it to the restaurant. Lorie stacked her possessions to one side of the buggy. She left her bag of clothes beside the box of paints and headed back up the stairs.

Sadie was standing right where she left her, gaze still holding on the brightly colored paintings. “I don't understand.”

She tried to harden her heart. Not for her sake, but for her sister's. What good would it do to tell all of her father's secrets but to damage how Sadie forever viewed the only man she knew as a
dat?
But she couldn't stand the lost expression on her sister's face. She supposed that was how she had looked when she had first seen the tattoo. When she had looked into the box the police had brought to them. The box of her father's possessions.

“
Dat
wasn't Amish.” There was no sugarcoating this one.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean he was
Englisch.
When he moved here, he was
Englisch,
and he only pretended to be Amish to hide me from my mother's family.”

Sadie shook her head. “That can't be true. I saw him. I saw him pray and dress like an Amish man. I saw him live every day as an Amish man.”

But did that truly make him Amish?

Lorie shook her head. “I only know what I know.”

Sadie slumped against one of the boxes and watched as Lorie continued to sort through the paintings. One part of her wanted to take them all while another wanted to just walk away.

She grabbed the first five on the top and started for the door. She had to get out before she lost her nerve.

“Lorie, please.” Sadie stirred herself and stumbled behind her toward the door. “Lorie.”

“I've got to go, Sadie. I don't expect you to understand.”

“Lorie.”

“What's going on here?” Zach stood just outside of the storeroom on the tiny landing. “Lorie?”

She managed not to let her tears fall as she saw him. “Here.” She thrust the paintings into his hands and brushed past him and down the stairs.

He followed behind her as Sadie sat down on the top step of the stairs. Lorie refused to break as her sister lowered her head into her hands. Sobs shook her shoulders. Lorie had to be strong for all of them.

“Lorie?” Zach loaded the paintings into the trunk of her father's car.

She slid into the passenger's seat and closed her eyes against the maelstrom of emotions. “Please,” she whispered. “Just get me out of here.”

They drove in silence for most of the trip back to Tulsa.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Zach asked as they sped along. She had been sitting there, head back, eyes closed. So quiet he was starting to worry.

He never once thought to question why she had called him and what had happened. She needed him, and he was there.

“Not yet,” she whispered. “Maybe when we stop.”

“Okay,” he returned. Though he had no idea where they would stop. He hadn't given the where a second thought as he loaded her possessions into the little orange car and sped off while her sister sat on the steps and sobbed. Something bad had happened. He just didn't know what. Lorie needed him. It was enough for now.

He would take her home. His mother could help them. Whatever Lorie had gotten herself into, his mother could help. She could think clearly while they were too close to see a solution.

He didn't say anything more as he maneuvered the Tulsa streets. He had a gut feeling that Lorie was fighting demons in her own mind. That required silence to accomplish.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled the Ghia into his drive and cut the engine.

“We're here.”

She turned her head toward him and opened her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Then to his dismay, her brown eyes filled with tears.

“Don't cry.” It had been hard enough to hear her sobs through the phone lines, but in person, it was almost more than he could bear.

But her tears kept coming.

He wrapped his arms around her as tightly as the console between them would allow. She was warm and soft and so very sad.

He just held her, giving her time to cry it out. There would be a time for talking later. She could tell him what happened then. Right now, it was all about her and the comfort she needed.

After several minutes of holding her close, she sniffed and pulled away. She let out a teary chuckle. “I got you all wet.”

He looked down. The front of his shirt was damp. “No worries,” he said. “Are you ready to go in?”

“Is there anyone else here?”

“My mom might be home by now. Are you up for that?”

“I guess I have to be. We're here, aren't we?”

“We can sit here as long as you like. Or go somewhere else.” He had no idea where.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, but reached for the door handle and got out of the car.

Zach followed suit, leaving all her things in the car for later. It wasn't like they were going anyplace. And he didn't know what Lorie's plans were or even if she had any.

She reached into the backseat and grabbed a familiar canvas bag. He had seen it enough to know that it held her English clothes. Evidently she was staying for a while.

Together they walked to the front door. He used his key and let himself in. “Mom?” he called, tossing his keys onto the table by the door. “Mom?”

“In here,” she returned from the kitchen. “Did you have a nice visit with Ashtyn?”

“Yeah.” He stood there, not really sure how to respond. How did a guy tell his mother that he'd brought an Amish girl home? He was saved having to find an answer.

His mother came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “I'm glad I—hi.”

“Mom, you remember Lorie. She's Betty's granddaughter.”

His mother didn't miss a beat, though he could tell that another place setting for supper was the last thing she had expected. “Yes, of course. How are you, Lorie?”

“Fine, thank you.” Though her red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained face belied her words.

His mother's eyes asked questions he had no answers for. But maybe they could work through it later. “Uh, Lorie, would you like to change clothes? Or take a shower?” he asked.

She swung those big brown eyes toward him. “What?”

“If you want to freshen up or whatever . . .”

She glanced from him to his mother and back again. “Okay.
Jah.
Yes. Okay.”

She had to be in some sort of shock. He just wished he knew more about what happened. His mother wanted answers as well, and he sure wouldn't be able to give them to her. They would just have to wait until Lorie was ready to talk.

 

 

Lorie stepped from the shower feeling a little refreshed though still emotionally bruised. Life could change in an instant, she had quickly learned. Her life had taken several of those changes in the last couple of months.

She toweled herself dry and wiped the steam from the mirror. She barely recognized the face staring back at her. The skin under her eyes was purple. Her hair hung damp and lank around her face. Everything she had loved had been taken away, but the same brown eyes stared balefully back at her.

She finished her toiletries and pulled on her clothes, then started combing the tangles from her hair. Halfway through, she cracked open the bathroom door.

Voices floated in to her from the living room.

“You don't want her here?”

“Zachary Wayne. That is not what I said, and you know it. But she doesn't belong here.”

She heard Zach scoff. “Do any of us belong here?”

“I knew I should have never let you take philosophy.”

“Really, Mother, she has as much right as anyone else to happiness and a good life.”

“So you're saying she didn't have a good life with the Amish?”

“Ugh! Would you stop putting words in my mouth?” Zach growled, sounding so much like the cranky dog at Merv King's house that it brought a smile to her face. Even if they were talking about her like she was a lost kitten. “She left. That's all I know. I don't know for how long or why. But I do know that if she wanted to get out of there, then she deserves the chance.”

“I'm just afraid—”

“That I'll get hurt. I know. I know. But this isn't about me. It's about her.”

Lorie's heart soared in her chest. Of all the people she had met, Zach understood better than anyone,
Englisch
or Amish.

“I hope you know what you're doing.” His mother sighed.

“I do.” His words were so confident, they made her feel like everything was going to be just fine.

Oh, how she prayed that it was.

Dinner was ready by the time Lorie stepped from the bathroom. Zach and his mother must have been talking while she cooked.

“Let's eat,” Mrs. Calhoun said. “Then we can talk.”

“If you want to,” Zach added.

His mother shot him a look so familiar Lorie almost laughed. Almost.

“We can talk then, yes,” Lori replied.

Zach had driven out to Wells Landing to get her right after she had called. His mother had taken her in and was about to feed her like one of her own. The least Lorie could do would be to explain what had happened.

Everyone gathered around the table. Zach's mother said a quick prayer thanking God for their food and the beautiful day. Lorie hated saying a prayer without her head covered, but she was in a different world now. Surely God would understand. So she said an extra prayer for wisdom and courage to get her through the coming days and for forgiveness for praying with her head bare. She hoped the prayers reached their destination.

 

 

“Do you want to tell me what's going on before we have to face the firing squad?” Zach asked, handing Lorie a rinsed plate to load into the dishwashing machine. It was smaller, but not too terribly different than the one they had at the restaurant. It didn't take her long to figure out the proper way to load it.

“I overslept this morning.”

He shrugged, clearly not understanding the seriousness of what she had told him.

“I went up to the storeroom—”

“Where you were today?”

“Yes. I put the letters that Betty gave me up there.”

“And a few other things as well.” He was obviously talking about her paintings.

“I went up to the storeroom last night,” she started again. “But I fell asleep there, and when I woke up, I had missed church.”

He made a commiserating face.

“And my baptism class.”

“I take it this is not a good thing.”

She shook her head. “It is not done. And certainly not because a person fell asleep while reading letters her possibly
Englisch
father sent her definitely
Englisch
grandmother.”

“I get it. Go on.”

“I woke up and walked home.”

“You walked to your house all the way from the restaurant?”

“I had no other way to get home.”

He nodded, but didn't interrupt again.

“When my family arrived back home from church . . . my
mamm
told me that I had to give up trying to find out the truth or leave.”

“So you left.” It was almost a question.

She shook her head, not in answer but to try to clear her thoughts. It did not work. “I didn't know what to do, but I can't give up reading the letters and learning the truth about my father. The things I read last night . . .” Again she shook her head. “There's so much. So many questions. Every time I read another letter, I have more and more questions.”

“Then you deserve more and more answers.” He said it so simply she wanted to trust his word, but she had walked away from everything she knew. She was having trouble believing she deserved anything at all. “Hey.” He touched the back of his fingers to the side of her face and trailed them across her cheek. She closed her eyes against the tingles the feel of his skin on hers produced. “You'll get through this.”

She opened her eyes and looked into his. “Will I? Everything I've known is gone.”

He grabbed her hand and led her through to the living room. His mother was waiting there, sitting in an armchair, flipping through a magazine like she didn't have a care in the world.

Zach walked her over to the sofa and sat down beside Lorie. Strange, but she almost felt as if they were a team. The two of them against the world.

Mrs. Calhoun shut her magazine and set it to one side. She turned kind eyes toward Lorie. “Would you like to tell us what happened today?”

Zach took Lorie's hand into his own, lacing their fingers together as he spoke. “Lorie had a disagreement with her family and can't go home.”

A frown wrinkled Mrs. Calhoun's smooth brow. “Zach, I'm not going to stand on ceremony here. Tell me what happened, and what we do from here.”

He started to speak again, but Lorie stopped him, laying her other hand on top of their intertwined fingers. “I can't go home,” she started, then recounted the story to Zach's mother. When she was done, she stopped and waited for Mrs. Calhoun's response.

“What do we do now?” she asked, looking from one to the other.

“I don't know,” Zach said. “I was hoping that you would have some ideas.”

“Well, it's pretty obvious that she can't stay here.” She nodded toward their clasped hands. Lorie tried to pull away but Zach refused to let her go.

“Are you saying that you don't trust us?” Zach asked.

Lorie's cheeks flamed hot enough she was sure her hair was singed.

“I'm saying that there's no need to expose yourself to temptation.”

Zach rolled his eyes at his mother, but agreed. “Okay. So where do we keep her?”

“I'm right here,” Lorie protested.

“She's not a puppy,” his mother added.

“Okay, sorry.” Zach released her hand to hold his up in surrender.

She immediately missed the warmth. But it was better this way. She needed to learn to stand on her feet if she was going to survive out here in the
Englisch
world.

His mother picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory. She looked at them and flashed a smile that Lorie suspected was meant to be reassuring, but seemed a bit pained all the same. “Ashtyn, we have a favor to ask of you.”

 

 

“Are you sure this is okay?” Lorie asked.

“Of course,” Ashtyn said brightly. Almost too brightly and Lorie had to wonder if she was really all right with Lorie staying with her. Or maybe Lorie was feeling a bit unwanted, shuffled around. Lost.

“You'll have this room all to yourself. Well, at least for a week or two. My son is with his dad.” She made a face so much like Zach and their mother that Lorie almost laughed out loud. The stress of the day must be getting to her.

She didn't want to stay here. She didn't want to go home. She didn't want to go back to Zach's house, even though she would sleep in the car if that meant she could remain at his side.

Maybe she should have just had Caroline or Emily come to get her. But Caroline had a new baby to tend to and Emily was the bishop's daughter and pregnant herself. It wouldn't look good for her to be harboring an Amish fugitive.

“Thank you,” Lorie said, not asking what she was supposed to do when Ashtyn's son returned from his father's. That was one problem that didn't have to be solved tonight. When stacked up against all the ones that she couldn't solve . . . Well, it was easily pushed aside to worry about another day.

“You're going to be fine here, okay?” Zach said. He took her hands into his and squeezed them as if it would give her the courage to make it through the night.

“Okay,” she whispered in return.

“I'll just be . . .” Ashtyn backed out of the door and disappeared down the hall.

“Tomorrow I'll come get you, and we can talk. Make some plans.”