In Plain View (10 page)

The lively contemporary music, with a six-piece band and a concert-quality sound system, made Annie feel out of practice. She tried to sing the unfamiliar songs, but she could not bring herself to clap as others around her did. Her months of worshipping with the Amish had left their mark. The time to sit for the sermon came as some relief. And at least the sermon would be in English. She would not have to strain to follow High German.

This was a church week for the Amish in the hills around Westcliffe. Annie wished she had missed an off weekend instead. The congregation would sing hymns. Long hymns. Slow hymns. Time-to-think hymns. And then two of the men would give sermons.

Brushing aside the image of Rufus sitting among the men, Annie reached for a Bible in the rack in front of her and found the passage listed in the bulletin. Wedged between her mother and her sister, she felt both of them looking at her out of the side of their eyes. Annie did not give them the satisfaction of turning her head. She had a lot to learn about the Bible, and she might as well take advantage of an English service. Rufus often referred to a Bible verse and Annie hardly ever knew what he was talking about. She could change that if she tried.

They stood for one last song, and that was when Annie saw him. Randy Sawyer. What was he doing here? Across the aisle, he turned his head toward her and smiled. Annie jerked her head back to the large screen displaying the words of the song. When the music ended, and the pastor gave a final blessing, Annie stretched out the process of returning the borrowed Bible to its place. If she had been alone, she would have exited the pew at the far end, but with no escape from the path her family was taking toward the center aisle, she was face-to-face with her college boyfriend ninety seconds later.

“Are you visiting Colorado Springs?” She shook Randy’s hand awkwardly and stepped away from her family. Thankfully, they continued greeting other people down the aisle, and would not hear her awkward fumbling.

“I live here now,” he said. “New job.” He named a technology firm she knew well and pulled out a business card.

“Oh. The Springs is a beautiful place to live.” She could not help looking at the fingers of his left hand. No ring. She hated that she did that.

He nodded. “You look beautiful yourself.”

Annie flushed and moved one hand down the silky skirt. Randy Sawyer had never needed a silk dress to want to kiss her— and much more. She moistened her lips, unsure what to say next. The crowd thinned around them.

“I’ve heard that you’ve done quite well since college.” Randy put one hand in a pocket.

Annie nodded. Randy did not seem nearly as unnerved by this encounter as she was. Had he selectively forgotten their frequent furtive quests to find some place on campus to be alone, and what they had done when they found those places?

“I read that you sold your business last year,” he said, “but I lost track of what you went on to next.”

She lifted her shoulders slightly. “I’m slowing down. Trying to enjoy life.”

He smiled. “If the reports I heard are anywhere close to true, you should be able to enjoy life quite comfortably.”

She had no response. What was she supposed to say?
I gave away my fortune and despite what this dress might imply, I’m thinking of becoming Amish?

“Annie,” he said, “I want you to know that I’ve grown up since college. I know we didn’t always make the best choices in our relationship, and I’m sorry.”

She put her hands up, palms out. “We made those choices together.”

He nodded. “It’s good to see you, Annie. Be happy.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Buried sensations stirred. Annie’s breath caught as she watched her first love turn and walk up the aisle of the church. She closed her fingers over his card.

Rufus sank into the Adirondack chair on the front porch, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. The spring mountain air heralded late-afternoon rain. If a storm rolled through, Rufus wanted to be right in that spot to watch it. The porch was deep enough and the overhang broad enough to keep storm watchers dry.

He opened his eyes to conduct his daily study of vegetation on the slopes of the Sangre de Cristos. Evergreens and snow kept shifting colors on the mountains all winter long, but rushing weeks of spring left pale green hues that Rufus waited for all year. On the Sabbath, with the worship service and shared meal finished, he could sit as long as he liked breathing in the fragrance of a new season.

Rufus grimaced slightly at the sound of the front door opening behind him. Clattering footsteps meant at least some Stutzmans were among the entourage about to burst into his peace. Rufus was still getting used to the added commotion in the house.

His mother appeared—and right behind her Beth and Johanna Stutzman.

“There is a singing tonight,
ya?”
Franey looked at her son expectantly.

“Ya,
Mamm
. At the Millers’.”

“Gut. It will be a good time for the Stutzmans to get to know other young people.”

Beth pushed past her sister. “I would love to go. It would be the first singing in our new community.”

“I’m sure you would be welcome,” Rufus said.

“Then it’s settled,” Franey said. “Rufus will take you in the big buggy.”

Rufus startled and sat up a little straighter. He felt too old for the biweekly singings and seldom went. His mother knew that. More than a year had passed since his last time.

Before Annalise.

Franey began to count on her fingers. “Rufus, Beth, Johanna, Essie, Lydia, Sophie, Joel, Mark, Luke. You’ll need both buggies. Joel can drive the smaller one with the boys and you can take the larger one with the girls.”

Rufus blinked blandly, seeing no gracious way out of this. “I suppose we should plan to leave about five.”

Franey and Johanna withdrew into the house. Beth settled into the chair beside Rufus. “This will be the first singing ever for Mark and Luke. Perhaps they are too young to think of pairing off, but they can at least meet some of the other boys.”

Rufus refrained from pointing out that the other boys would be older than Beth’s brothers, as would the girls. He supposed it could not hurt for all the Stutzman children to at least learn the names of others they would worship with every two weeks.

“I didn’t know it would be so beautiful in Colorado.” Beth’s eyes were on the mountains.

“It’s a different kind of beautiful than Pennsylvania.”

“I think it’s spectacular. It’s a wonderful place for a new settlement.”

Beth’s face glowed with enthusiasm. Rufus wondered whether to believe her.

“We’ve had to learn to farm differently,” he said.

“Of course it will be hard work.” Beth nodded earnestly. “But the land is beautiful, and my parents are so pleased that they will be able to help Mark and Luke have property of their own when the time comes. I hope my brothers can find something half as beautiful as your land.”

Rufus was not blind. Beth was the prettiest of the Stutzman sisters. Not a hair was out of place on Beth’s head. Her
kapp
perched perfectly, and her clear eyes and rosy complexion brightened any room she entered. She also was an expert quilter and had prepared last night’s dinner for fourteen all on her own. More than once his mother had mentioned in Rufus’s hearing how helpful Beth was around the house while her family stayed there, which was high praise for only two days’ time.

He knew his mother liked Annalise, but did she think he did not have it in him to choose her over an Amish girl? Whatever she was afraid of, pushing Beth Stutzman on him was not the answer.

A vocalist and a four-piece band all crowded onto a small performance stage in one corner of the restaurant.

Ruth Beiler’s heart pounded harder than the beat of the music. She was in a restaurant on the Sabbath.

Lauren took her to a small artsy restaurant downtown, which somehow increased Ruth’s sense of guilt. Twice already Lauren had been mistaken for a soldier by people eager to thank her for her service to their country. Lauren was quick to explain that wearing fatigues was her way of showing support for her father and her brother, but she basked in conversation about the military with anyone. Ruth hoped Lauren’s family members would be safe, but beyond that she hardly knew what to say. Her family never spoke of the military, and Lauren seemed to speak a language foreign to Ruth. Munitions and weaponry and incendiaries and military acronyms and abbreviations.

“See? Isn’t this better than being stuck in the dorm?” Lauren stabbed her blackened trout and moved an ambitious bite toward her mouth.

Ruth let out her breath and smiled. Sabbath or not, she was here. She might as well enjoy it.

When Ruth ordered a salad, she expected a modest bowl of greens. Instead she faced a plate heaped with fresh spinach, red peppers, feta cheese, and grilled salmon.

And she liked it. Her fork crunched through a pepper slice and into four spinach leaves. As Ruth lifted it to her mouth, she wondered how difficult it was to grow spinach in Colorado. Ruth knew she could buy fresh spinach at dozens of grocery stores or farmers’ markets in Colorado Springs. Still, the ingrained question of growing her own food, as her family always had, popped up at odd moments. Perhaps someday she would live in a place where she could serve as a nurse and still grow vegetables. She missed her mother’s garden.

“I know you take the bus around town,” Lauren said. “You could borrow my car if you ever get in a jam.”

Ruth swallowed hard. “Thank you, but I don’t have a license.”

“No license?”

“I do have a permit.” Ruth savored the tang of vinaigrette on her tongue. “A friend at work was teaching me, but her husband got transferred to Kansas City.”

“Well, we’ll work on that starting tonight. You can drive home.”

Ruth inhaled. “No. I would be too nervous. I’ve never driven in the dark.”

“Everyone has to learn to drive at night.” Lauren maneuvered her fork with one hand and tapped the other on the tabletop in rhythm with the band’s beat.

Their conversation dangled as the music’s presence filled the room. Ruth realized she was tapping a foot. The music, a ballad of lost love, tugged its soft beat out of her. She watched the drummer, and her foot met his tempo. The vocalist sang with her eyes closed and a fist over her heart, as if she were singing her own heartbreak.

Ruth thought of the words in Elijah’s letter, the most candid of all the letters so far.
So far
. How could she consider continuing this correspondence? She would surely break his heart.

Again.

Ten

Y
ou’re going out?” Two days later, Annie set the last of the lunch dishes in the sink and looked at her sister.

“I’ll be back before dinner.” Penny took a set of keys off a hook. “Mom said she couldn’t get out of her committee meeting, but Mrs. Metzger is picking her up. I figure I can use her car.”

“To do what?”

“Gonna catch up with Mahalia. She has the scoop on everybody from high school.”

“Oh. Okay.” Annie had not thought she would find a moment alone during this visit. Suddenly the afternoon yawned wide.

“It’s already Tuesday. My visit will be over before I blink twice. I’d better grab the chance while I have it.” The keys jangled in Penny’s hand. “Did you want to go somewhere? There’s always your car.”

“I don’t drive it. You know that. It’s up on blocks.”

“Nope. It’s in the garage right next to Mom’s.”

“But the tires are probably low on air.”

“They looked fine to me.”

Penny led the way into the garage, pressed the button to lift the garage door, and got in the new silver Toyota. Annie waved as Penny backed out. Annie’s blue Prius was indeed in the garage. When had her father taken it off the lifts and filled the tires?

Back in the kitchen, Annie stared at the lone key still on its hook.