The Hope of Refuge (17 page)

She watched from the shadows. “Ephraim?”

He dumped coffee beans into a hand-crank grinder. “Ya?”

There were many things she wanted to know, but asking questions might start things she couldn’t stop. Still, if she remained silent, she might never know any parts to her past. Having any sort of connection to people her mother knew could give her and Lori ties to family or friends or something. But could those connections do more harm to Lori than the lack of them? She wished she knew the safest thing to do.

He added water and coffee into the percolator and set it on the stove. “There’s a lot going on inside that head of yours, isn’t there?”

She swallowed. Why was he acting so easygoing? “Do…do you know me?”

“Ya, I do.” He said it calmly so matter-of-factly “We met when we were kids. You were eight. I was twelve. Do you remember?”

Tears stung her eyes. “Some of it started coming back to me about a week ago. What I remember covers about five minutes of time.”

“Is that when Malinda told you how to get here?”

“You knew my mother?”

Ephraim stopped all movement, staring at her. “Knew?” A few moments later he set two mugs on the table. “Only a little. Things I’ve heard. A few conversations I had with her that time you visited.” The puppy finished his meal and began whining. Ephraim brought him to Cara. “When did she…die?”

Cara pulled the mutt against her, wishing Ephraim hadn’t asked, hadn’t moved in so close. Of all the things she hated talking about, losing her mother was the worst. “You don’t have to say it so careful like. It doesn’t matter when, does it?”

“I was nineteen when my mother died, and, yes, it mattered.”

She scoffed. “There’s a whole world of hurting people out there—starving, dying horrific deaths, being mutilated in accidents or by wars or by violent people.”

He stroked the puppy’s head. “If we’re feeling sorry for ourselves, that type of thinking can help us get some perspective. But their misery doesn’t stop my pain or yours. Losing a mother is tougher than it sounds.”

His insight made it hard for her to respond. “People could lose themselves completely if they let it all start to matter.”

“True. But a person can just as easily lose themselves if they don’t let it matter.”

“Great. Now I understand. No matter what we do, we lose.”

He walked to the kitchen table. “There’s definitely truth in that. So, if Malinda didn’t tell you how to get here, your dad must have.”

“Fat, stupid chance of that.”

Ephraim watched her, looking as if she’d just cursed or something.

She rolled her eyes and huffed. “He went MIA a long time ago.” His brows furrowed in confusion. “MIA,” she repeated. “Missing in action.”

“I know what it means, but…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Makes no difference. I’m sure I’d be in a worse jam if he’d hung around.”

“How
did
you land here?”

Her heart beat as if a rock band drummer were pounding against it. If Ephraim knew she was running from a stalker, he’d kick her out. Now.

Lori came out of the bedroom, and Cara’s nerves calmed. He’d already proved he wouldn’t ask awkward questions in front of her.

Lori rubbed her eyes. “Morning, ’From.”

“It’s Ee-from, honey.” Cara set the puppy on the floor. His little legs couldn’t carry him to Lori fast enough as he ran across the slick floor, sliding and falling.

“‘From will do.” He set the milk on the table. “I want to drop you and your mom off near the Howards’, so we need to head out soon. Do either of you want some eggs?”

Lori scooped up the dog, giggling when he licked her. “Me and Better Days like scrambled eggs.”

The moment Ephraim stepped out of Robbie’s truck after work, he smelled food cooking. He headed straight for his house, hoping Deborah wasn’t fixing him a meal at his place today. He’d cut the workday short because he had a plan, one that had nagged at him since it sprang to mind. And he had questions that he hated to ask Cara, but he needed answers.

As he drew closer to his home, he heard female voices. He looked through a window and spotted Anna Mary and Deborah in his kitchen. Since Cara and Lori couldn’t come back here until after dark, he’d wanted to get some food to take to them. He’d planned to pick them up near the Howards’ and find a suitable spot to stay until dark. But now he couldn’t grab food, not without his sister and Anna Mary asking him questions he wasn’t ready to answer. Cara had stuffed every piece of belongings she and Lori had into her backpack this morning. At the time he’d thought it a little odd, but right now he was glad she’d left no evidence of staying here last night. He had to tell everyone, but they didn’t need to find out yet, and certainly not like this.

He changed course and went to the gate inside his barn that led to the pasture. Trying to spot his horse in the pasture, he wondered again how well Anna Mary would take the news of his dealings with Cara. The concern over his father’s health and the need to find Cara a place to live was all he’d thought of since yesterday. He’d scoured the newspapers today and made several calls, but he’d found nothing, not even an empty room in some Englischer’s home.

When he didn’t see his horse, he whistled. Under a grove of shade trees, she raised her head, angling it as if wondering if she’d truly heard him. He whistled again, and she whinnied before breaking into a gallop.

Ever since dropping off Cara and Lori near the Howards’ place that morning, he’d felt their presence. The first rays of dawn had spread their fingers across the land as he’d stopped his carriage just out of sight of the Howards. Cara thanked him, her voice barely audible and her mood invisible. She helped Lori out of his buggy, not glancing up even when Lori blew him a kiss. As he watched them go down the road, he knew he couldn’t let them walk back to his place after a long day of work. But they’d need to stay somewhere out of sight until after dark, so he’d come up with a plan. A reasonable one. Except lurking inside was an emotion he didn’t want.

His horse trotted toward him, and he opened the gate, letting her inside the barn. He bridled her and began connecting the leads.

“Ephraim.” Anna Mary’s voice made him pause.

He put the horse collar and hame over the animal’s neck. “Ya?”

“Deborah helped me cook a meal for you on that awful wood stove.”

One reason he didn’t own a gas cookstove was to keep women out of his kitchen. Anna Mary knew that. If he ever grew serious about someone, he’d buy a gas oven. The wood stove was an unspoken line of defense against pushy women who wanted to win his fondness by showing what a great wife they could be. But he’d never considered Anna Mary pushy and he’d actually been considering buying a gas stove.

He ran the harness traces through the whiffletree. “Sorry, but I have plans tonight. I’m heading out as soon as I hitch the buckboard.”

“Won’t you come eat something first? I’ve spent most of the afternoon cooking.”

He shook his head as he fastened the leads.

She stepped forward and petted the horse. “I don’t suppose I can go along.”

“Not this time.”

“I made fried chicken. Can I at least pack some to send with you?”

“No, thanks.”

She touched his hand. “Are you leaving because I dared to cross one of your not-so-invisible lines?”

“No, but I have to question why you’d do such a thing if you thought I might mind.”

She said nothing. He stopped what he was doing. After a year of courting, they knew each other pretty well, and they rarely argued, but he was being difficult, and he half expected her to tell him off and leave. Although he had no idea how he’d feel about that if it happened, he wasn’t one to walk lightly.

She shrugged. “I figure the fact that you didn’t tell me to never go in your kitchen is a pretty good indication of how you feel about me.”

His blood ran hot. She’d been talking to her older sister. He’d courted Susanna years ago and had broken up with her over this issue. A year later she married someone else and now had three children.

Ephraim never regretted letting Susanna go. Or any of the other girls he’d dated. But Anna Mary was different.

“I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“That’s not all you wanted. You’re trying to figure out where you stand—if I’m the same with you as I was with Susanna. Or whoever. You told me once you don’t want to be compared to anyone else, and yet you’re testing to see if I’ll react to you the same way.”

She sighed. “Guilty, but I didn’t know that until right now.” She wrapped her hand around the buckle he was fastening on the horse and gazed into his eyes. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t get this way over you, that’d I’d keep things light and easy. But I can’t stand trying to figure out if I’ll become just another girl you once courted.”

Ephraim realized he’d become somewhat callous over the years; otherwise, he’d have recognized the spot she was in. He placed his hand over hers, seeing afresh that in some ways she was very tender-hearted and was willing to be vulnerable with him.

Taking her hands into his, he chose his words carefully. “You mean more. Only time will tell us what we both want to know.”

She closed her eyes, looking both disappointed and relieved. He placed his hand on her shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around him. When they connected really well, like now, he hoped he’d never court anyone else. He longed to have a family of his own. To have the warmth of a woman in his bed. To make the circle of life complete by becoming a husband and father. But…

Anna Mary backed away. “Fried chicken is great for taking with you.”

Ephraim couldn’t help but smile. “It smells delicious. How much did you burn before figuring out how to regulate the heat?”

“Only a few batches.”

He laughed. “You’re teasing, right?”

“Ya, but if Deborah hadn’t been with me, I’d be in tears, and your freezer would be empty of chicken.”

“I guess we could eat a quick bite together before I head out. If it doesn’t taste like burned grease,” he teased, “I could take some with me too.”

“You know, Ephraim, I appreciate honesty, but there are times when a bit less truthfulness would be appreciated.”

“I see what you mean.” Ephraim placed his hand on her shoulder as they walked across the yard. “I’ll gladly take some chicken with me even if it does taste like burned grease.”

She laughed and elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re awful.”

“I know. I’m just making sure you know that.”

With her backpack across her shoulders and Lori falling asleep in her arms, Cara walked back toward Ephraim’s. Just as she topped one hill, she stared at another one. Her goal was to get a little closer to Ephraim’s and then find somewhere out of sight to rest until after his family’s bedtime. Since Lori got up before dawn and had been helping Cara clean out closets today, she needed this nap. Unfortunately, her taking one right now was quite painful for Cara. But if she knew her daughter, she’d be up and moving again in twenty or thirty minutes.

A horse and wagon came across the horizon, making her think of Ephraim. She’d spent most of the day wondering if he’d heard from the social worker. The idea unsettled her, making her thoughts as scattered as her emotions were raw.

She kept walking, the rig heading toward her at a steady speed. She’d never expected the man she’d dubbed Heartless to be so even-tempered and…pleasant. He didn’t seem unfeeling or conniving, but she wasn’t convinced he had no ulterior motive. She’d learned long ago to keep the walls around her firmly braced. People weren’t trustworthy. It seemed they often wanted to be. But human weakness won out time and again.

The rig grew closer.

Could that be Ephraim?

Her heart beat an extra time. Was he in the area by coincidence, or had he come to pick them up?

“Whoa.” Ephraim brought the horse to a stop, a warm smile hidden beneath a layer of seriousness or maybe caution. “Hi.” He watched her, and for the briefest moment she thought she actually remembered those gray blue eyes.

He set the brake and climbed down. Better Days stuck his head out from under the bench seat, wagging his whole body. Ephraim placed his hand on Lori’s back. “Let’s get you two in the wagon.”