Promise Lodge (9 page)

“Part of Marvin's moods had to do with his diabetes—and the fact he didn't want a doctor telling him how to manage it,” Rosetta replied. “But I always believed that he could've controlled his sharp tongue and his temper, had he wanted to. Unfortunately, Mattie had no way out of their marriage until he died. And we all wonder how Deborah got that big handprint on her neck, too, don't we?”

Rosetta gave the girls a moment to consider what she'd said. “Your
mamm
and Aunt Mattie and I are determined not to keep looking the other way now that we're starting fresh here in Promise,” she continued earnestly. “We probably shouldn't quiz Deborah about that bruise, but we can encourage her to talk about what's been going on in Coldstream. We want her to stay as long as she needs—”

“But won't her parents wonder where she's gone?” Phoebe interrupted. “Why hasn't she called home?”

“Deborah's
never
been in trouble,” Laura said with wide eyes. “I can't believe her
dat
—or anyone else—would grab her neck so hard.”

Rosetta sighed. “I agree. And I suspect that within another day or two we'll know more about it,” she speculated. “Meanwhile, we're glad Deborah came to us when she was running from trouble.
Jah?
”

Both girls nodded again.

“Shall we go downstairs and see those treasures you found?” Rosetta asked in a more cheerful tone. “We'll keep Deborah in our prayers. And we'll keep believing that God knows the truth and that He'll reveal it when we're ready to understand it.”

As they started down the narrow wooden steps, Laura's chuckle echoed in the stairwell. “We learned some truth about
you
today, Aunt Rosetta,” she teased. “No matter what you think, I'm not giving up on Mr. Right finding you here at Promise Lodge.”

“Me, neither,” Phoebe insisted in a lighter tone.

Rosetta laughed as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “Meanwhile, I'm moving ahead with my plans for these apartments and my new life,” she told them. “Hanging around and waiting for a man to show up? Not my style!”

Chapter Eight

“How long can you stay with us, Deborah?” Laura asked as she cracked eggs for the cookie dough.

“It's so
gut
having you here. Just like old times,” Phoebe chimed in. She stopped cranking the egg beater long enough to flash Deborah a bright smile. “I bet your
mamm
really misses your help, though.”

Deborah concentrated on putting peanut butter into a glass measuring cup. This rainy Saturday morning marked her fourth day at Promise Lodge, and she'd known that sooner or later her friends would start asking such obvious questions. The cool, wet weather meant that again they couldn't work in the garden today. Amos and Noah were helping Roman with the dairy barn renovation, so Rosetta had suggested that the women could spend the day baking breads, cookies, and pies for the deep freeze.

The kitchen had become very quiet. Deborah could feel Mattie, Rosetta, and Christine watching her as they awaited the answer she didn't have. After her run-in with Noah, she'd been wondering when he would tell her that she'd worn out her welcome—and that he had no intention of taking her back. But where else could she go if she left Promise Lodge?

“Even after I nearly ruined your dress, you want me to stick around?” she teased Phoebe.

“
Puh!
That's why I loaned you an old one to paint in,” her friend replied. “I can see why you'd want to keep after Noah, though. He's basically a
gut
fellow—”

“Even if he's clueless,” Laura added with a laugh. “All the more reason he needs you in his life,
jah?
”

Deborah glanced up in time to see Noah's
mamm
exchange a glance with her sisters. Mattie put a damp tea towel over her big ball of pie crust dough and crossed the kitchen to join the girls. Deborah's heart beat faster. Something told her she wasn't going to get by with hedging any longer.

“I have a little confession,” Mattie said. She leaned against the big stainless steel sink as though she might rest there a while. “I didn't want to ask about the bruise on your neck, Deborah, because I recall how awful I used to feel when Marvin took out his frustrations on me,” she began quietly. “But I left a message on your family's phone saying we'd heard about the Bender barn fire—figuring your
mamm
would know who'd told us about it and call me back. And she did.”

Deborah's breath caught. “I—I
meant
to let her know I was here,” she said in a tiny voice. “But I was afraid if Dat or one of the kids went to the phone shanty and heard the message before Mamma did, everyone would get upset all over again.”

Mattie smiled sadly. “Alma waited until your
dat
was gone on a welding job to call me. She was relieved to know you were here with us, Deborah,” she said gently. “She was worried about where you'd gone after he cast you out.”

As the friends on either side of her gasped, Deborah's face prickled with humiliation.

“What happened?” Laura demanded, slinging her arm around Deborah's waist.

“Why did your
dat
grab you hard enough to make that handprint?” Phoebe murmured, shaking her head. “I was so happy to see you, I didn't want to ask about it.”

Once again the scenes from that fateful night at the Bender place flashed through Deborah's mind. For a few painful seconds she relived the horror of being shoved out of Isaac's buggy and then retrieved by his English friend, Kerry, only to discover that the lanky redhead was drunk enough to have all the wrong intentions. “Um, what did Mamma tell you?” she cautiously asked Mattie.

Mattie's eyes darkened with concern. “She said you got crosswise with your
dat
—and now the bishop's upset with you—because you called nine-one-one when you saw the Bender barn was afire instead of ringing the big bell so the local men could douse it. And—like you told us when you got here—Obadiah's denying his son had any part in it,” she added. “But you made it sound like you saw Isaac there, with your own eyes.”

“
Jah,
I did.” Deborah lowered her head. Her throat was so tight she could barely get the words out. “He and his English friends were in the barn smoking and drinking. I suspect one of them tossed a cigarette into the hay or kicked over the lantern—maybe by accident.”

“Or maybe not!” Laura blurted.

“Let's don't go speculating about that, young lady,” Christine warned her daughter. She and Rosetta came over from the stove, wiping their floury hands on towels. “What else did Alma say, Mattie? Maybe some new facts have come to light since Deborah came here.”

“
Jah,
she said Sheriff Renfro came looking for Deborah, wanting to talk to her—”

Deborah gripped the countertop while her friends sucked in their breath.

“—on account of how they traced the nine-one-one call to the Peterscheims' phone shanty,” Mattie went on ruefully. “Eli told the sheriff he couldn't talk to you. And he told a reporter from the Coldstream paper the same thing. Alma says you've really upset the apple cart back home, even though she knows you didn't intend to cause any trouble.”

Deborah blinked, determined not to cry. The women gathered around her were her closest friends, and they wanted the best for her. “I didn't intend to deceive you when I came here, either,” she murmured with a hitch in her voice. “But I didn't know what else to do about Rosetta's barn, knowing how Isaac Chupp always wiggles out of the problems he causes. I was afraid you wouldn't let me stay here if you knew—”

“Oh, Deborah,
we
know you don't go looking for trouble!” Laura insisted as her hug tightened. “If you say you saw Isaac and his friends in the barn, they were there.”

“And your
mamm
suspects those boys got rough with you,” Mattie went on in a strained whisper. “She was mighty worried when you didn't come home until nearly dawn the day after the fire, and you looked like you'd been in a bad scuffle. Are—are you
all right
, dear?”

Deborah wanted the floor to open up and swallow her, even though she knew Noah's mother had her best interests at heart. Mattie wasn't coming right out and asking, but she was wondering just how
involved
Isaac and his friends had gotten with her. Laura and Phoebe were holding their breath. Christine's hand fluttered to her heart and Rosetta's eyes widened with concern as they awaited her answer.

“Isaac shoved me into his buggy when he heard the sirens, to get us out of town before the sheriff and the fire engine got to the barn,” Deborah began. “And then after we went down a lot of dark back roads, he—he started touching me and kissing me. Said I'd better let him do whatever he wanted, to make up for calling nine-one-one about him and his buddies.” Deborah hung her head, still stinging with fear and humiliation.

“When I slapped him, he made me get out of the rig. Then he grabbed my neck and shoved me into the ditch beside the road,” she rasped, covering the bruise with her hand. “It was pitch-dark and I had no idea where I was. Somewhere along the line I'd lost my
kapp
. My stockings got muddy and torn up when I landed in the ditch and scraped my knees. It took me a long time to find my way back home.”

“And your
dat
took that to mean that Isaac and his friends had . . . taken advantage of you?” Christine asked in a horrified whisper. “And that you'd allowed them to?”

Deborah felt as limp as a balloon that had lost all its air. “He said I'd had no business going over to a burning barn, and that any virtuous Christian girl would've run the other way when she'd seen a bunch of boys drinking in there.”

Before she could draw another breath, the three women and her friends huddled around her. They took her into their arms, murmuring their comfort and apologies. While it felt wonderful to have the support of these lifelong friends, Deborah still felt sick at heart. Was it a sin if she didn't reveal the rest of the story, about how Kerry had caught up to her and—

“Your
mamm
was afraid your
dat
had jumped to such conclusions,” Mattie's voice cut into her dire thoughts. “And when the bishop claimed his son wasn't anywhere near the Bender barn that night, Alma said Eli went along with him to keep the law from getting further involved. Then when you got home in the wee hours, your
dat
made you leave—as though you were to blame for the condition your clothes were in.”

“It makes no sense for Eli to say Isaac wasn't in the barn and then to suspect his daughter was stirring up trouble with him,” Rosetta muttered. “I'm so sorry it happened this way, Deborah. Thank the Lord those boys didn't hurt you right off and leave you in that burning barn.”

“
Jah,
you're here with us now, and you're safe,” Phoebe said with a nod.

Even as relief washed over her, Deborah sensed this nasty situation wasn't behind her. What if Isaac found out where she was and came after her? Would he sneak in and set fire to the buildings at Promise Lodge, just for spite? Or was she letting her imagination run amok now that she could finally discuss what had happened on the night of the fire?

It did no good to worry about such what-ifs, however. She had more immediate problems to consider. “Please don't tell Noah,” Deborah pleaded. “For some reason he thinks I ended our engagement so I could be with Isaac, and—and I can't seem to convince him that's not true.”

“Oh, my,” Mattie murmured. “I had no idea. Noah's refused to tell me anything about why you two broke up.”

“Anybody with any sense would know better than
that,
” Laura declared vehemently. “Isaac's got such a high opinion of himself, what girl could compete?”

“
Jah,
he's cute, but I don't know any girls around Coldstream who'd put up with him,” Phoebe remarked. “He tried to get Laura and me to go out with him, but we both told him to hit the road.”

“I know you girls mean well, but promise me you'll keep quiet about this whole business with Isaac on the night of the fire,” Christine insisted as she gazed at her daughters. “Now that we know the truth—and now that Deborah's gotten herself out of harm's way—it's best if we let her and Noah work this out between them.”

Laura glanced doubtfully at Deborah and then drew her fingers across her lips as though she were closing a zipper. Phoebe did the same, and then she murmured, “This is so sad. So confusing.”

“And
scary,
” Laura whispered. “If Isaac can cause all this trouble and get out of it scot-free, what's to stop him from doing anything he pleases? To anyone's property?”

“We'd best leave God in charge of that,” Rosetta replied. “We'll keep the Peterscheims in our prayers, and we'll pray for the Chupps, as well—and for all the folks in Coldstream. And we'll thank God again for leading us to Promise Lodge.”

“We've been blessed, for sure,” Mattie affirmed as she gripped Deborah's hand. “Your
mamm
was thankful to hear you're with us, dear, but maybe you could drop her a note soon. She misses you something fierce.”

Deborah nodded sadly. “
Denki
for calling her. And for taking me in, too.”

Rosetta glanced out the kitchen window and put a purposeful smile on her face. “Back to our baking, girls. The men are coming in from the barn and they've got another fellow with them.”

* * *

As Noah listened to Truman Wickey tell Amos about his landscaping business, he exchanged a glance with his brother. Roman was smiling as he tossed a stick for Queenie. Did they dare hope that Truman, the Mennonite neighbor who'd come over to introduce himself, would help them with the tree trimming and brush removal around the campground? He, his brother, and Amos were hard-pressed to keep up with such work until more men came to live at Promise Lodge.

“I'm real glad to see you Amish folks taking over this property,” Wickey was saying as they reached the back entry to the lodge kitchen. “I was concerned that a big-city developer might construct a bunch of condos—or that the place would sit empty another year and sink further into disrepair.”

Amos chuckled as he opened the door. “I'll let the ladies tell you about our plans for the place,” he said. “You picked a great day to come. The rain's kept them inside, busy in the kitchen.”

“I could smell the pies baking all the way to my place,” Wickey teased as he removed his straw hat.

By his quick count, Noah saw three pans of cinnamon rolls cooling on the counter, along with half a dozen fruit pies and some loaves of bread on one of the dining room tables. The girls had just finished baking cookies, and the aroma of sugar and spices made him realize how hungry he was.

“This is our neighbor, Truman Wickey,” Preacher Amos said in a jovial voice. “He and his
mamm
live on the other side of the orchard from us—the place on the hill with the nice white board fence. Our cookie bakers are Laura, Phoebe, and Deborah,” he went on, gesturing to each girl, “and these three sisters are the brains behind the businesses we aim to operate. Christine Hershberger owns the dairy herd you just saw. Rosetta Bender's going to manage apartments here in the lodge building. Mattie Schwartz will be opening a roadside produce stand as soon as the vegetables are ready—and she's overseeing the sale of property to folks who want to join us in our new colony.”

“Those are impressive undertakings,” Truman remarked as he nodded to each woman in turn. He grinned at Amos, including Noah and Roman in his glance. “So what do you fellows do, then?”