The Hope of Refuge (29 page)

“I can’t believe this.” She slung the towel into the sink.

“Look, it’s complicated, and I can explain it.”

“You lasted a little over a week. It’s more than I should have expected. And I appreciate it.”

Her calm, matter-of-fact tone belied the betrayal reflected in her eyes. The walls between them that had been removed now reappeared like a magic trick gone bad.

“You need to work at your shop tomorrow. I’ll finish at the Garretts’ on my own and bring your share of the money once I get paid. Then Lori and I will move on.”

“You caught wind that something’s not right, and that’s it? You’re done?”

“I may not dress appropriately or wear my hair just so or know anything from inside that Bible you read every night, but I don’t play people.”

“I wasn’t playing you.” He walked toward her, feeling his shoes and socks squish with mud and water. “I’ve kept a few things from you but not to trick or deceive you. I was trying to protect you until the time was right.”

“What things?”

“Why don’t you get a shower, and we’ll talk after we eat.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not about to trust anything you have to say now.”

He’d done a horrible job of trying to be God to her, but he had to make her understand. “For a dozen reasons I can’t make you see, I was trying to do the right thing. There are more people involved in this than just you, Cara. People I care about.”

She made a face. “What are you talking about?”

He pulled a chair out for her. “I think you should sit.”

“No.” She gazed into his eyes, once again looking as defiant as the day he saw her at the barn. “I have things to do.” She went into the bathroom, closed the door, and turned on the shower.

He couldn’t help but wonder if some sliver of this was how God felt sometimes. God gave up things He didn’t have to. He cared so much it hurt, and at the first sign of a perceived wrong, His people stopped trusting Him or even trying to hear Him. But as the thought came and went, he knew this wasn’t about who God was to her. It was about who she was to God. Wondering if that’s how relationships with God always started out, he prayed for her.

The door to the bedroom creaked as Lori opened it. “Can me and Better Days come out now?”

“Sure. Are you hungry?”

Lori moved to a chair, her brown eyes reflecting concern. “Mom’s mad, huh?”

“A little.”

“Does this mean we gotta leave?”

He hoped not. He wanted to give her a promise, but he had no control over Cara. She could pack her things and walk out at any minute. Maybe he should have talked to Cara earlier in the week while they painted and Lori slept on the couch, but it’d been easier to put the ugliness of the truth to the side and let Cara enjoy the progress she had made. Now he needed to talk to her without Lori nearby. “I have an idea. Would you like to meet my sister?”

“You got a sister?”

He laughed. “Lots of them, but the one I want you to introduce yourself to is Deborah.”

“Can Better Days come too?”

“Ya. Kumm.”

They walked across the yard, through the parking lot of the shop, to his Daed’s place. Deborah stood in the yard, talking with Mahlon and Anna Mary. None of them noticed him.

“Go to the girl in the blue dress and tell her you want to show her your puppy and stay with her for a bit.”

“I gotta stay?”

He knelt in front of her. “Just for a while. I want to talk to your mom, okay?”

“That’s all you guys have been doing all week.”

“I know, but this is different. If you do this, I’ll make ice cream later tonight, even if it’s midnight.”

She studied him, looking unsure. “Mom won’t like me staying here without her.”

He had a feeling Lori was the one who didn’t like the idea. “She won’t mind. I’ll make sure of it.”

Lori hugged his neck. In spite of having so many younger sisters, Ephraim was surprised by the tenderness that washed over him for this little girl. He placed his hand on her back, hoping he could make a significant difference in her life. But it wasn’t all up to him. Cara’s will and choices could override everything.

Lori walked toward the group, a muddy Better Days running alongside her. All three of them glanced to Lori when she said something. His sister immediately responded to the young girl with kindness. Deborah bent, petting the dog in spite of his wet fur. While kneeling on the ground and chatting with Lori, she noticed Ephraim and held his gaze, her warm smile assuring him of her loyalty before she lowered her eyes.

Anna Mary gave him a cold look, as if warning him to follow through on his agreement. He turned for home but decided to wash up and put on something clean. Since he’d been staying at the shop at night, he had several sets of fresh clothes there. And the workers had left for the day.

After a quick cleanup, he hurried back to his house. It wouldn’t do for Cara to think Lori had slipped outside and off the property while she was in the shower. As he entered the house, she came out of the bathroom, barefoot and in Deborah’s dress, towel drying her hair. Whether she was covered in mucky pond water, paint-covered jeans, or Amish clothes, her beauty was evident. Her hair was as short as his, and it grated against everything he’d been taught about a woman never cutting her hair, yet he liked it.

She barely looked at him as she headed for the bedroom. “Where’s Lori?”

“She’s with my sister.”

“You had no right—”

He held up his hand, stopping her short. “I need to tell you some things, and you aren’t going to want her to overhear them.”

She went to the sink, where the grubby, wet backpack sat. “I told you, forget it.” After opening it, she pulled out its contents. The soggy clothes she tossed in the sink, but when she pulled out a thick leather book, her movements became slow and gentle. She flipped the pages, checking the water damage.

“After you and your mother left, I climbed our tree every day, waiting for you to come back.”

She tossed the book onto the table as if it didn’t matter, but he’d already seen that it did. “So what’s your point?”

“You were supposed to come back. Malinda intended for you to be raised by Levina. That’s what she was doing here that week—getting permission.”

The taut lines on Cara’s face melted as every trace of emotion drained. “She wouldn’t send me away.”

“She didn’t want to. I was finishing up some chores for Levina really late one night, and I overheard your mother through an open window, sobbing like her heart was breaking. The plan was to take you back with her and prepare you for what needed to be done.”

“That’s ridiculous.” She snatched up the book. “I’ve heard enough.”

He stood and blocked her exit. “Cara, listen to me. The church leaders decided they couldn’t provide a place for your mother. She’d joined the church, but then she left here with a man who wasn’t Amish. When she came back with you, she was married to that man. They wouldn’t support her leaving him, but they were willing to take you in because you were a child, and she was willing to give you up.”

“My mother wouldn’t have passed me to some friend to raise. She used to hide me from Dad sometimes, but—”

“Levina and Emma Riehl weren’t friends. They were relatives. Riehl was your mother’s maiden name. And Levina was your great-grandmother.”

She froze, seemingly unable to catch her breath.

He touched her arm, and she jerked.

“The old woman?”

“She was your mothers grandmother. She died a number of years ago.”

“But I…I have relatives here?”

He nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Whatever bad feelings your mother caused in Dry Lake still cling to most.”

“Meaning they know who I am and don’t want anything to do with me?” Pain and utter disbelief reflected in her eyes.

“At first no one knew you were here. When they found out a woman was staying at my place, most didn’t know who. Now, among other reasons, they need some time to adjust.”

“Adjust?” She tried to bury the hurt from his sight. “They need time? After leaving
me
in a bus depot?”

“I don’t know why that happened. Maybe your dad just thought Emma was coming.”

She rolled her eyes, looking disgusted. “Yeah, right. It had to be him. We can tell that by how welcoming those same people are now.” She stared at him. “Why are they being like this? You know something you’re not saying.”

“They’ve heard things about you. Rumors.”

“Enlighten me.”

“They believe you’re a thief and a drunk. I never said a word about you taking anything from me, but—”

Her brown eyes bore into him, and he could almost see the puzzle pieces fitting together. “The man who saw me coming out of that home must’ve started people talking.” She slammed her palms on the counter. “I only took what I had to. And I wasn’t drunk. Exhausted and clumsy but—”

“I know, Cara. I get it. And they will too if given time.”

“So now they think I’m worse than my dad, who ruined the life of an Amish girl.”

He nodded.

She sidestepped him and left the house, letting the screen door slam behind her.

He went after her, surprised she wasn’t going to his Daed’s house to get Lori. Instead she went the back way toward the cornfield.

“Cara, wait.”

She turned to him. “All this time I’ve shared parts of my life with you, and you knew more than I did. Go away, Ephraim. Go back to your tight-knit community and leave me alone.”

He followed after her. She didn’t stop until she stood on the empty foundation of Levina’s place.

He moved onto the platform with her. “I’m sorry. If I could have prevented this, I would’ve.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. “All those years of having no one was easier than this.”

“I know it’s hard to understand, but it takes rules, restrictions, and avoiding the ways of the world to live as we do. Our boundary lines don’t change because someone wants more freedom. A person either agrees to live by the rules of being Amish and joins the faith, or they leave. Your mother joined the faith and then left. She didn’t return until she was trying to protect you.”

“So it didn’t really matter what I did. They would’ve been set against me anyway because of what she did.”

“Not exactly. Whatever trouble your mother caused is only part of the wall. The half-truths going around about you have done a lot of damage. And you carry an aura of the world, and that makes you suspect. We slept in the same house together. When the church leaders stopped by you and Lori were dancing. Still, if you’ll give the community a little time, they’ll come around. Their attitudes toward you are already changing.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The bishop found a place for you to live. It’s not too far from Dry Lake. And the rent is already covered for three months.”

“They’re paying me to leave?”

He hadn’t thought of it like that. “Cara, I’m sure that’s not how they meant it.”

“So is that what your girlfriend came to tell you—that the community has a plan for getting me out of Dry Lake?”

“No, the real news is that my Daed’s in the hospital, and I need to go see him.”

“What? I’m sorry. I’ll get Lori right now, and we’ll stay at the Garretts for the night.”

“No, I didn’t mean that. He’s stabilized, so it’s not an emergency.”

“Why didn’t they tell you sooner?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, realizing he’d just stepped into another pile of horse manure. “I made the choice, Cara.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m under the ban.”

“In English, please.”

“I’m being shunned. I can’t talk to or be talked to or work with any Amish person around here—not even family.”

“On vacation, huh?” she mumbled as she walked to the far end of the foundation. A few moments later she squared her shoulders slightly. “Do I need to do something to help set all this straight for you, or is just getting out of here enough?”

“I don’t want you to go, especially not like this.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t want to grow up in foster care. But life happens, ’From.”

Her use of his nickname told him her anger was gone. Resignation had seeped into her, and she was ready to make amends and leave.

He moved to the edge of the foundation and sat. “I went to New York about a year after my mother died. I went looking for you. I actually thought I had a chance of finding you.”

She sat beside him. “I’m sorry I called you a liar. You’ve been nicer to me than anyone could expect.”

“I’m glad we
had
to get to know each other. I’ll never see life the same since seeing it through your eyes. But being Amish is who I am, and my family needs me. Especially with my Daed’s health as it is. I provide for the family.”

“And your God wouldn’t want it any other way right?”

His heart felt as if it might plummet to his feet. “Die Sache, as uns zammebinne, duhne sich nie net losmache, awwer die Sache as uns ausenannermache schtehne immer fescht.”

“Back atcha.” A half smile tugged at her lips as it had half a dozen times this week when he’d said that to her. “You ever gonna tell me what that means?”

Gazing into her eyes, he longed for more time. “The things that bind us will never loosen, but the things that separate us will always stand firm.”

She eased her hand over his, sending warmth and loneliness through him. “And what doesn’t separate us allows us to be friends… at least for now.”

He held on to her hand. “We’ll pace what needs to be done. Take the time to get Lori used to the new place and to find yourself a job.”

Cara gazed at the horizon, looking peaceful in spite of the storm. He didn’t push for her to respond. Plenty had been covered for now. They waited as daylight faded into dark and a few stars became visible.