Taken for English (18 page)

The small oil lamp threw a bubble of light across the table in an otherwise dark room. On the shelf above the table, where genealogy books commemorated the connection to Amish ancestors that Annie had discovered in her own family history, sat plain note cards and envelopes. Annie used them to write to her mother once a week or so. She reached for one now, but the name she wrote on the outside of the envelope was Matthew Beiler. The Beilers had left two married sons in Pennsylvania when they moved to Colorado, and Annie had seen enough letters arrive at the Beiler house from both Matthew and Daniel to know the addresses. She wrote now in a firm hand.

Then she turned to the note itself and had far less confidence about what to write. She did not even know the name of Leah Deitwaller’s young man, so how could she ask Matthew about him? Franey mentioned a time or two writing to her sons about the family’s new friend, Annalise Friesen, but Annie had to admit she and Matthew Beiler were strangers. She could not even be certain he would help.

All Annie wanted to know was whether this young man with whom Leah was desperate to reunite shared the girl’s feelings. That information could be meaningful for knowing how to help Leah.

“Dear Matthew,”
Annie wrote,
“My name is Annalise Friesen
,
and I am a friend of your family here in Colorado.”

She paused and sipped her now cold tea.

“
I’ve met so many wonderful families during my journey into the Amish faith, and I so admire how they band together to help one another.”

“Get to the point,” Annie said aloud.

A shadow blurred past her outside the window, and Annie shivered involuntarily. Someone was in her driveway, moving toward the back.

Annie let the pen drop from her hand and moved into the kitchen where she kept a flashlight in a drawer. She turned on no other lights as she crept through the kitchen to the back door. Turning the knob and pulling at a snail’s pace, Annie opened the solid door and now had only a flimsy screen door between herself and whoever was in her backyard. She pushed the screen door open just far enough to aim the flashlight.

“I got your note.” Over her dress, Leah Deitwaller wore an oversized black hoodie with a pocket across the front.

No doubt stolen
, Annie thought as she stepped out on the back porch. Leah stood at the bottom of the three short steps.

“Will you come in?” Annie said. “I want you to. I’ll heat some soup.”

Leah did not move. The bulge in her hoodie pocket rolled and then two green cat eyes appeared.

“I just came to say thanks.” Leah stroked the kitten’s head, now fully emerged from the pocket. “Especially for the milk.”

“I want to help you.” Annie took a cautious step toward the girl.

“I know. You don’t give up easily.”

“Neither do you.”

“So anyway. Thanks. That’s all.”

“It’s going to be a cold night.”

“My sleeping bag is rated for twenty degrees below zero. I read the tag.” Leah looked away. “I saw the flyer, too. I’ll find a new place soon. You don’t have to worry about me.”

But Annie did worry about the girl, and she could not imagine that she would stop.

“You could stay here. I meant it when I offered. We can go back and get your things in the morning.”

It had taken Annie an hour to pedal out to the dilapidated house. How long had it taken Leah to walk into town in the dark? She would be walking half the night to get back. Annie considered telling Leah about the half-written letter on the dining room table. But it would only have been to lure her inside. It was premature to imply that the letter represented any sort of promise that Leah would get what she wanted.

“Good night.” Leah walked with the stretchy stealth of a cat.

Annie scampered down the steps now and around the side of the house. Leah was already halfway down the driveway, her form absorbed into the darkness.

Annie stopped chasing her and sighed. How hard could it be to get through to one teenage girl? After all, Annie had been a teenage girl once. She was not completely unfamiliar with the sensation that parents don’t always understand their daughters.

A faint meow wafted across night air.

W
hat would you like?” Bryan asked on Tuesday morning.

Ruth stood next to him in the coffee shop on Main Street. She stared at the menu written in colored chalk behind the counter, but it was a jumbled mess to her nervous eyes.

“Just coffee,” she said.

“Latte? Cappuccino?”

She shook her head. “Just coffee. The coffee of the day.”

“Still a simple Amish girl, eh?”

Ruth was not sure how to take that remark. The coffee of the day was an Ecuadorian deep roast, and even that sounded exotic. And if she was still a simple Amish girl, what was she doing in a coffee shop with an
English
firefighter?

“I’ll get us a couple of sausage-and-egg sandwiches.” Bryan pointed toward the list of breakfast foods on the left side of the menu. “How does that sound?”

“That would be great.” Ruth’s stomach flip-flopped relentlessly, leaving her unsure whether she could actually swallow any food. But she had said yes to a breakfast date, so it was reasonable that Bryan wanted to buy her breakfast.

He ordered, paid, and lifted some napkins from the basket on the counter. “Where would you like to sit? Comfy chairs or a table?”

Ruth knew she ought to be able to make this simple decision. “A table, please.”

Bryan led the way to a table about midway through the shop and pulled out a chair for her.

Ruth managed a smile as she sat down.

“Thank you for saying yes.” Bryan took his seat across from her.

“You were kind to invite me.”

He chuckled. “Stubborn more than kind, I’m afraid.”

His laugh warmed her.

“Now what shall we talk about?” he said. “I promise not to say something stupid like, ‘Have you always been Amish?’ ”

Ruth looked into his green eyes and saw the dance there. But he was not teasing her. It was a dance of curiosity.

“I’ll spare you the awkwardness of asking,” she said, “and just tell you that I left the Amish community almost three years ago. Our…that is, their education system only goes through eighth grade, and I believe God is preparing me to be a nurse. So I got my GED and enrolled at the university in Colorado Springs. I’m on a semester break while I sort out what kind of nurse.”

“Really? You’ve been living in Colorado Springs? And to think I could have just run into you at Target or Starbucks.”

Ruth sipped her still scalding coffee. “Colorado Springs is a big place.”

A shop employee brought their coffee and breakfast sandwiches.

“I’ll say a quick blessing for the food, if you don’t mind,” Bryan said.

Mind? Ruth’s pulse quickened. Was Bryan an
English
with sincere faith? His words were simple but heartfelt, and at his “Amen,” she heard her own voice echo the word.

“Now you,” Ruth said. “Why have you come to Westcliffe?”

He took a swig of coffee and grinned. “Most people ask me why I went to Westcliffe ‘of all places.’ ”

Ruth bit into her sandwich.

“My friend Alan and I studied firefighting in Colorado Springs, but there are no firefighting jobs available up there. Not even in Denver. We may have to go out of state, but we thought we might have better luck getting jobs if we had something to put on our resumes, so we came down here to be volunteer firefighters. Fortunately the grocery store took us both on, so we can pay the rent and eat all the almost-bad produce and cracked eggs we want.”

“My friend Annalise grew up in Colorado Springs. You should talk to her sometime.”

“Maybe you can introduce us.”

“Perhaps. I’m staying with her while I’m figuring out my next move.”

“Not with your family?”

“I went through a tough time with my family.” Ruth picked at her sandwich with her fingers. “I’m not shunned or anything, because I was never baptized, but my
mamm
and I—well, it was hard. I have a driver’s license and a car now, and I wear scrubs a lot of the time. So I like to go for dinner and church, but it’s better if I’m not there all the time.”

Abruptly someone slumped into the chair next to Bryan.

“Speak of the devil,” Bryan said. “Ruth, you remember my friend Alan Wellner.”

“Of course. How are you, Alan? Bryan was just telling me a bit about how you ended up in Westcliffe.”

“Because we’re a couple of losers who can’t get grown-up jobs?” Alan took a strap off his shoulder and set a water bottle on the table before reaching for Bryan’s coffee. Bryan slapped his hand away.

“It’s a hard time to get a job.” Ruth picked up her own coffee protectively. “It sounds like you’re doing something smart with your in-between time.”

“We already got to help with one fire,” Alan said. “And tomorrow there’s a controlled burn, so we’ll get some hands-on time again.”

“I saw the flyer,” Ruth said. “Actually, I’m going to be there as well.”

Bryan’s eyebrows arched. “The fire chief is hoping there won’t be too many lookey-loos.”

“My supervisor thought it might be good for me to see the scene of a fire. It would just be some background for understanding what burn victims might have been through when they arrive for care.”

“She probably cleared it with the chief, then.”

“I’m sure she did. We’ll stay out of the way. But this is big news in Westcliffe. I’m not sure how they’ll keep people away if they really want to be there.”

“We should see some good action.” Alan tilted his chair back on two legs, hanging on to the table by his thumbs. “Did Bryan tell you he’s also certified to drive the ambulance?”

Ruth caught Bryan’s eye. “No, he didn’t mention that.”

“Only because we did not get that far before we were so rudely interrupted.” Bryan glared at Alan.

“Don’t give me that.” Alan’s chair smacked the floor, and he reached again for Bryan’s coffee, this time successfully. “If you wanted privacy you would not have brought her to a coffee shop.”

Bryan pasted a smile on his face. “Alan, would you like me to get you some coffee?”

“Thanks, buddy. As a matter of fact, I could use a warm-up.”

“Ruth,” Bryan said, “how about you?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Ruth glanced at the oversized decorative clock on the coffee shop wall. “I’ll have to leave for the clinic before too much longer.”

Bryan stood up. “Behave yourself, Wellner. I’ll be right back.”

Bryan had no sooner left the table than Alan snapped to his feet. “Dad! What are you doing here?”

Annie stood in her living room and considered the options. With Ruth staying until after Christmas, she did not have a spare bedroom, but she was determined that if Leah would agree to come and stay with her, Annie would do everything in her power to make the girl welcome. The living room was the best option.

The sofa had been new just a year ago, purchased when Annie thought of the house as a weekend getaway and before she stripped herself of her considerable financial resources. It was well constructed with comfortably deep sitting space. If she removed the loose cushions from the back, the remaining cushions were nearly as wide as a twin bed. Annie had no doubt it would be a comfortable place to sleep. But Leah would need some privacy. Annie did not know how long she might be there, and she did not want Leah to feel like she was staying in some sort of way station but in a safe, welcoming home.

Annie felt in her gut that Leah would come. It was just a matter of time.

The room was more wide than deep, stretching across the front of the house. It would be simple enough to section off one-half of the room for a small bedroom. In fact, a trifold privacy screen had just come into Mrs. Weichert’s shop. It was old but not old enough for antique status, even if the meaning of the term were blurred. Mrs. Weichert was not going to want to put it out in the shop to sell. The screen had a sturdy frame, making it functional, not merely decorative.

Annie started shoving furniture around. Hardwood floors made the task reasonably simple. The front door would still open into the living room with a couple of chairs, between them an end table that Rufus had made housing a propane tank for the lamp above. The other half of the room would be screened off with the couch prepared for sleeping and another end table beside it. Annie scratched her chin as she pondered bringing down a small shelving unit from her own bedroom for Leah’s use.