Simple Secrets (The Harmony Series 1) (8 page)

I stabbed another sausage with my fork. “Okay, I understand the clothing thing. But why did my uncle turn his back on our family? Sam says you don’t actually ban people.”

“He’s right. If we discovered a church member was involved in some kind of serious error, we would reach out in compassion to him, but we wouldn’t turn him away unless there was no other choice. In my entire life I’ve never seen it happen. I’m not saying I haven’t watched people leave the faith, but they always left on their own accord.” He hesitated and gazed intently at the tabletop for a moment. “I’ve heard that Amil Angstadt used what at one time was called The Ban, but trust me—when he died, the practice died with him. I visited your uncle many times, trying to convince him that he needed to reach out to his family. He refused to even discuss it with me. I have no idea why.”

But I was pretty sure I did. “Abel, I appreciate everything you’ve said. I had some wrong ideas. I guess it isn’t your religion that was the problem in my family. It seems that following the wrong leader caused most of the destruction.”

He nodded. “I believe that to be the truth.”

I finished the coffee in my cup and glanced toward the front counter. Mary leaned against the back wall and glared at me. I changed my mind about raising my cup to indicate I wanted more coffee. Fortunately for me, Sam noticed I was out and waved to her. She picked up a pot, carried it over, and silently filled everyone’s cup. She left the table with a backward glance at me. Let’s just say that the small town charm evident in the café didn’t carry over to its owner.

“I—I do have another question,” I said to Abel while I tried to ignore Mary’s obvious distaste for me, “but I’m not sure you can help me. You weren’t in Harmony when my parents lived here.”

He shook his head. “No, I wasn’t. But I have learned a lot about those days from some of the folks who lived through them. Ask away.”

“Do you know anything about a man named Jacob Glick?”

A loud gasp from behind me revealed an older woman standing next to a girl who looked to be around fourteen or fifteen. They were dressed almost exactly the same, in long pastel dresses covered by a white pinafore. Both wore caps with ribbons that hung next to their faces.

Sam sat closest to the older woman whose face had gone horribly pale. He reached out and caught her as she staggered.

“Emily!” Abel cried out. “Are you all right?”

She nodded vigorously and pushed away from Sam, steadying herself. But the look of fear in her wide eyes told me a different story.

This woman was terrified of Jacob Glick.

“I hope Emily’s feeling better.” Sam glanced over to the table where the Muellers sat, waiting for their pancakes.

“Yeah, me, too.”

Emily Mueller’s hurried explanation of a sharp pain in her side left me with more questions than answers. I didn’t want to think she’d lied to me, but her reaction seemed to be more a response to the name of Jacob Glick than to some kind of physical pain.

Eventually she regained her composure, even managing to paste a smile back on her face before Abel ushered his family to their own table. Sam and I accepted an invitation for Sunday dinner tomorrow after church. The request for our presence hadn’t come from Emily. I had to wonder if she was as happy as her husband to welcome us to her home.

I watched the Muellers as I finished my breakfast. Although Emily wouldn’t look my way, her daughter, Hannah, seemed fascinated by me. I wasn’t quite sure why. There were other non-Mennonite people in Harmony. What was so special about me?

The girl’s head covering and simple dress couldn’t hide her natural beauty. Tendrils of golden blond hair trailed from beneath her cap, and her large sky blue eyes were framed by flawless skin. A lack of makeup certainly didn’t hurt her stunning looks. A teenage boy, eating breakfast with his family at a nearby table, kept sneaking glances at her. I didn’t blame him a bit.

As if reading my mind, Sam said, “Hannah Mueller seems quite taken with you. Probably because Abel introduced you as an artist. You’ll see some of Hannah’s paintings at Ruth’s. Harmony has a few artisans, including Joyce Bechtold. She painted your uncle’s birdhouses.” He lowered his voice. “Although she’d never admit it, I think Joyce hoped someday Ben would become more than just someone she worked with. In all those years, he never gave her any kind of encouragement.” He grunted and looked past me, as if viewing something I couldn’t see. “I saw him stare at her once when he didn’t know I was watching him. I could have sworn I saw something in his face ... a tenderness.” He shook his head and refocused his attention on me. “Must have been my imagination. If he was interested in her, why wouldn’t he have said something? Except for loving God, finding the right person to share your life with is the most important thing in the world.”

Was that how he felt about Mary? She kept looking our way, as if checking up on us. Obviously, her relationship with Sam wasn’t that secure—in her mind anyway.

I waited while Sam went up to the register to pay our bill. Mary said something to him that seemed to upset him. She tried to grab his arm, but he gently wrestled it away from her. As he turned to walk back to where I sat, the look Mary shot me was one of pure anger. Her expression shook me. I certainly wasn’t after her boyfriend. In fact, I had no intention of starting a relationship with anyone in Harmony. Not even a man as nice as Sam Goodrich.

“Let’s take that tour,” he said when he reached the table. I stood up and was headed for the front door when he put his hand on my shoulder. “Wait a minute,” he said. “I just thought of something.” He pointed at some pictures against the far wall of the restaurant. “There are some old pictures of Harmony here. I think your Jacob Glick might be in one of them.”

I followed him to a grouping of black-and-white photos. Sure enough, they appeared to be photographs of the town down through the years. I began to scan them. Sam pointed to a shot taken of a dry goods store on what must have been opening day. The proprietors stood proudly in front of their business. Off to the side stood a bearded man in dark clothing. He stared straight at the camera. His fierce expression chilled me, and I shivered involuntarily.

“Amil Angstadt,” Sam said. “I’m sure he had no idea he would show up in the picture, but there he is. Sweetie showed me this photo years ago, but she won’t talk much about him. Pretty scary, huh?”

I nodded my agreement. So this was the man who had caused so much pain in my family.

“Here,” Sam said triumphantly, pointing to a picture a few spots away. “Ever since you mentioned this Glick person, I kept thinking I’d seen the name somewhere. This is a picture of the church building in 1980. That’s Glick standing in front.”

I looked closely. Sure enough, someone had written “Jacob Glick” in the margin of the photograph.

“Glick wasn’t actually a part of the church.” I jumped at Abel Mueller’s voice coming from behind me.

“Then why is he shown in front of the building?”

“He worked around the church,” Abel said. “I have some old memoirs written by people who attended Bethel down through the years. They refer to him as a church custodian. Appeared to be a rather solitary fellow. No family. Not well liked. He was asked to leave town—more than once.”

“And why is that?”

Abel shrugged. “According to what I’ve managed to glean though some old letters and diaries, Glick was very interested in finding a wife. Mennonite women are encouraged to marry within the faith. Since he refused to join the church, church leaders rebuffed his efforts. He finally gave up and left town. And that was the end of Jacob Glick.”

I wished with all my heart that a bus out of town
had
signaled the end of Glick, but unfortunately, unless my uncle had taken leave of his senses, a rock in the side of the head had been his actual means of departure.

Glick was an unusually unattractive man. I assumed his looks hadn’t helped him in his quest for companionship. Dark hair, bushy eyebrows that had grown together, and an unusually long nose worked together to produce a rather frightening visage. His beady, black eyes held an odd hint of wildness to them. This was a man most women would run
from
instead of toward.

“Not what you’d call a good-looking guy is he?” Abel asked.

I shook my head while Sam snorted his agreement.

Abel cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to pry, but is there some reason you’re interested in Mr. Glick? I mean, he’s not part of your family. He wasn’t even part of the church.”

Wishing I’d come up with a reason for asking about Glick sooner, I blurted out the only thing that came to my mind. “I found his name on something at my uncle’s. I was just curious. It’s no big deal.” Well, at least I hadn’t out-and-out lied. I wasn’t sure about the “big deal” part, but maybe that would prove true, as well. I decided to change the subject before I was asked more uncomfortable questions. “Sam said Old Order Mennonites didn’t believe in having their pictures taken. Is that why there are no pictures of the church members or the families here?”

Abel nodded. “Yes, but there are a few. Ida Turnbauer told me that the cousin of one of the church members was a photographer. It seems a few folks contacted the man privately and had family pictures taken. They weren’t normally shown to anyone outside of the family, but I know they were treasured mementos.” He pointed to a grouping of family photos showing people dressed in the same kind of clothing depicted in the picture at Benjamin’s.

“Why are these here? I would think the families would have kept them.”

“Most of them did. These were either left behind when the families moved away or donated by relatives who still live in Harmony.” He directed our attention to one of the photographs. A very handsome young man stood next to an older man and woman. “That’s Levi Hoffman. He owns our candle shop. Lived here all his life.” He motioned toward the other photos. “The rest of these folks moved away. Levi’s the only one who still lives in Harmony.”

I glanced around at some of the other pictures on the wall. “Kind of sad that there aren’t more images of the early Mennonite settlers. Wouldn’t they help to keep their memories alive? Help people remember what they accomplished?”

Abel chuckled. “I understand your point, Gracie. But we have no photographs of Christ, and He changed the world. I’m not sure how important pictures really are.”

I wanted to tell him how special the portrait of my family hanging in Mama and Papa’s room was to me, but I kept my mouth shut.

I looked closer at the face of Amil Angstadt. There was something burning in those eyes—and it didn’t reflect the heart of the loving God I’d come to know. A rush of emotions churned inside me. The depth of my feelings surprised me. Being in Harmony, the place where my parents had grown up and fallen in love, was affecting me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. It made their experiences so real. I could almost sense their fear and heartache.

While I fought to bring my feelings under control, I studied Jacob Glick again—the man who was buried somewhere on property that now belonged to me. I had a strange urge to blurt out the truth to Abel. I felt strongly that he had the heart of a pastor and would want to help me. But I had to remind myself that I really didn’t know him—or anyone in this town. Besides, until I’d prayed more about it, I couldn’t risk sharing anything with anyone. I turned around and ran right into Sam. I put my hands on his chest to balance myself.

“Oh, s–sorry,” I stammered. Still touching him, I looked up into his eyes. What I saw there made my toes tingle.

“Th–that’s okay,” he said in a husky voice.

I forced myself to step away from him. Without planning it, my gaze swung toward the back of the restaurant where I’d last seen Mary. She was still there—staring at me. But I saw more than just jealousy in her face. There was hurt.

“We’d better get going,” I said more forcefully than I meant to. I was almost to the door when I remembered Abel. I looked back to find him watching me. “It was nice to meet you. I guess we’ll see you tomorrow ... about one?”

He nodded. “See you then, Gracie.”

Mary watched as Sam and I walked toward the front door. I thought he’d at least say good-bye, but he seemed to have completely forgotten about her. Although I’d never been in love, I knew the signs. This woman was head over heels for Sam Goodrich, but he didn’t reciprocate her feelings. I felt sorry for Mary. I hadn’t come to Harmony to cause anyone pain. Maybe two weeks was too long to stay—and then I remembered Uncle Benjamin’s secret. I was trapped here until I could find a way to resolve my family mess.

Sam and I stepped out into a bright spring day. “Let’s start on this side of the street. Then if there’s time, we’ll hit the other side.” He shrugged. “If not, we’ll come back next week. There’s no rush.”

I nodded and followed him to Ruth’s Crafts and Creations. The little store was housed between the restaurant and Menlo’s Bakery. At Sam’s recommendation, we decided to save the bakery for last. Good idea since I was so stuffed I couldn’t even think about food.

A bell tinkled above the door when we walked into the sunny yellow building with cream-colored trim. A gray-haired woman with a wide red face looked up from something she was working on behind her counter.

“Why, Sam Goodrich. It’s been a month of Sundays since you’ve come to see me. What’s going on?” She fastened her inquisitive expression on me. “Well, goodness gracious. Who is this?”

Sam put his hand on my elbow and gently guided me toward the counter. “Ruth Wickham, meet Grace Temple, Ben’s niece.”

The woman’s hands flew to her ample chest. “Oh my. Grace, I’m so happy to finally meet you. I’d heard you were coming. I wish Benjamin had let someone contact your family so you could attend his service.”

A thought struck me. “Is—is my uncle buried near here?”

Ruth’s round face softened into a smile. “Yes dear. In the cemetery outside town.” She pointed her chubby finger at Sam. “Sam can show you where it is.” She wiped her hands on the calico apron she wore over jeans and a bright red sweatshirt. “I’ve got some lovely flowers in the garden out back. You come by here whenever you want, and I’ll give you a nice bouquet to put on his grave.”