Pennsylvania Patchwork (16 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY

Holly's cell phone vibrated in Esther's pants pocket. She glanced across the kitchen table. Good: neither Mamm or Jeremiah seemed to notice.

Esther stood abruptly, scudding her chair's legs across the linoleum floor. “I've got to take care of something. Sit right there. I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Seeking refuge and privacy, she dove into a jacket and fled from the kitchen through the utility room. “Hello?” she whispered into the phone.

“Holly, is that you?” Larry said.

“No.” Esther opened the back door with her free hand and stepped outside. The sky was overcast but bright, the air brisk—she guessed in the low fifties. “I'm sorry, it's Esther. I still have her phone.”

“Oh.” His buoyant voice sank. “Would you get her for me, please?”

“Holly went out.” Esther shut the door behind her as quietly as she could. “The minute she returns I'll give her the phone. In fact I'll track her down right now. Can you hang on?”

“Thanks, Mrs. Fisher.”

“Please call me Esther, Larry. I'm sorry to keep you waiting like this. You've been so very kind.” She descended the steps. “May I speak to Nathaniel while I'm looking for her?”

“No can do. Nathaniel just went into his cousin's house.”

“You're there already?” Esther's thoughts were so scattered she had no idea what hour it was.

“Yes, we made it in record time. I'm calling from the car because Nathaniel asked me not to use my cell phone in their home.”

“Are you staying with his cousin too?” She considered asking what the house looked like. She knew little about Nathaniel's in-laws, only that they were farmers. “Is there room for both of you?”

“Yeah, there is, but I don't know yet. After I take Nathaniel wherever he needs to go I might check into a motel with a TV and Internet.”

Esther's mind juggled a hodgepodge of considerations: Nathaniel had gone into his cousin's house; he'd opted not to call her first to let her know they'd arrived safely; he hadn't left a message for Larry to give her.

She didn't understand Nathaniel's motives and didn't want to think about them, but they hovered in the periphery of her brain like mosquitoes just out of reach. All she could do was be patient, which made her feel powerless. The words of Psalm 27:14 came to mind: “Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord.”

But this waiting was draining her to a shriveled prune. She bet she looked ten years older; if she glanced in a mirror, she might not recognize herself.

“How's Nathaniel holding up?” She was unable to stifle her curiosity.

“Not well. Comatose might describe him. Except for giving me directions every now and then once we reached Holmes County, he's hardly said a word, just read that Amish magazine
Family Life
or stared out the windshield, his hands in his lap. Although he does seem to like those lattes.”

“Larry, you do know what he's facing, don't you?”

“Yep, I get the picture. His suicidal wife, who supposedly snuffed herself fifteen years ago, might still be alive. I'd be freaked out too.”

The saying
sometimes the truth hurts
mingled with her other chaotic thoughts. Esther had to hang up before she broke down and started crying right here in the barnyard.

“Why don't I ask Holly to call you when I find her?” she managed to get out.

“Hold off for a bit,” Larry said. “I'm heading into the house. I'll call her back later.”

“Thank you, and please keep us updated.”

With the phone in her pocket, Esther should return to the kitchen, but she wasn't in the mood for chitchat. Jeremiah and Mamm probably hadn't even noticed her absence yet. Using what she knew was paltry logic, Esther told herself this space of time might be Jeremiah and Mamm's one chance to converse about the good old days without Beatrice's interrupting them.

Zach's pickup was still parked alongside the house. Esther thought she heard voices, sharp and abrasive. She wandered out of the barnyard. As she proceeded along the lane leading to the road, the voices grew in volume. Up ahead stood a black, saddled horse, chomping grass. Next to it, Holly, Zach, and Armin were using hand gestures, the men's voices rough. None of them seemed to notice Esther's approach.

Esther wished she were invisible. Now was not the time to give Holly her cell phone and explain about Larry's call. None of them would like having his name brought up. Too bad Esther couldn't pass right by and go somewhere for a good cry.

Esther upbraided herself to return to the kitchen, but she couldn't face Mamm and Jeremiah in her flummoxed state. She felt herself drawn toward Nathaniel's as if she were a kite being reeled in. Would it be idiotic to meander over to his place for what might be her last visit to see his farm? She mulled over the fact that Nathaniel had lived in a large house by himself ever since his two daughters moved out when they married; Esther felt sure Nathaniel had intended to make her the mistress of his fine home. She sighed as she imagined his arm around her shoulder after they wed—should their union be God's will.

Keeping a wide berth from the horse and threesome, Esther said, “Holly, would ya please check on your grandmother and Jeremiah? Tell them I'll be back in ten or fifteen minutes to serve up schnitz pie if they want some.”

Holly finally noticed her. “Okay—sure, Mom,” Holly said. “In a second.”

The two men, their faces flushed, tipped their heads but said nothing. Fine, Esther wanted no part of their tiff.

She scurried to the two-lane road, took a right, and continued along the path next to the pavement. Minutes later, she reached Nathaniel's white clapboard house. The shades on the front windows were halfway up and at odd angles, as if raised hurriedly. He'd either wished to leave them that way or Armin hadn't bothered to open them properly. Although both men were fine-looking and intelligent, the two couldn't be more different. Nathaniel was humble, gentle, and kind, while Armin was pompous and arrogant. Still, he held a certain appeal that might captivate Holly—like Mamm said. Esther needed to come to grips with the fact that sometimes Mamm was right—perhaps most of the time, if not for her forgetfulness. Holly might choose Armin in the end, but Esther couldn't fathom her daughter becoming baptized Amish. Holly's and Esther's upbringings were like night and day. Esther's first sixteen years she'd lived on the farm with her parents and siblings. She'd spoken only Pennsylvania Dutch and German until she started school, when she learned English, and her education ended at eighth grade. At the other end of the spectrum, Holly was raised in the city by a single mom, was an only child, had graduated from college, and until recently had aspired to work in a downtown brokerage house.

Esther stood for a moment gawking at Nathaniel's front door, freshly painted forest green to match his window shades. To greet his future new spouse—meaning Esther—or to welcome his former wife? Ach, Esther had once held such high hopes: a second chance at happiness. The reality that Larry might be carrying another passenger—a female—with them made Esther feel like she'd been skewered with a pitchfork.

“All is in your hands, Lord,” she said, sotto voce, watching the spinning blades of Nathaniel's windmill.

Once, Nathaniel had explained that over the years since she'd left, many of his neighbors had switched to gas-powered windmills to pump water, but his worked fine and cost him practically nothing to run. “Why fix what ain't broke?” he'd said, causing her to laugh. If he were her husband, she'd always wear a smile. She'd never complain again, she promised the Lord.

November and December were wedding months for the Amish—on Tuesdays and Thursdays. So far this year, Mamm had been too wobbly to attend any. If only Esther and her Nathaniel were already married—but not if his former spouse were still alive.

Esther felt exhaustion penetrate her, running bone deep. Her head was so heavy she could barely stand erect. She could not imagine surviving another day without Nathaniel. But she would; she had in the past when her Samuel hadn't returned from Vietnam. Caring for Holly had kept her alive. But Holly didn't need her anymore. Her daughter was about to embark on her own adventure. If Esther were ripped in half again, she doubted she could mend.

She moved around the side of his house, and breathed in the after-the-harvest fragrances she loved: corncobs in the crib and dried hay. Since Nathaniel left this morning, her world had shrunk into a dense, constricting tunnel, but in truth the sun shone, pushing back the clouds, illuminating his white barn and other buildings—a cooler color than a week ago, the shadows longer. The breeze carried with it a clean crispness like no other time of year.

“What are you doing here?” Esther recognized Lizzie's voice and whirled around to see the comely woman in her early twenties at the back door.

Lizzie charged outside; her compressed lips hinted of disdain. “Nathaniel didn't mention guests, so I'm assuming you're here uninvited.” Lizzie sounded
griddlich
—cranky. “Under the circumstances, your being here is inappropriate.”

Lizzie was right, but Esther tried to stand tall and appear at ease. She scrutinized the young woman's flawless complexion, her precise part, her pristine Kapp, her ironed aquamarine blue dress and dark apron.

“Has Galahad returned?” Esther said, to regain a foothold. She felt so weak a gust of wind could blow her over. As could Lizzie's diatribe.

“No,” Lizzie said, “not that Nathaniel's horse or property is any of your business.”

Again, Esther braced herself against Lizzie's blistering words. Esther tried to dismiss the vision of Lizzie making herself at home in Nathaniel's kitchen, preparing a fine array of treats, awaiting his return. She wondered how Lizzie would behave should Nathaniel come back with his wife in tow. Set her sights on Armin?

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

I wanted to tag along after Mom, but she'd asked me to go back to the kitchen to keep an eye on Mommy Anna and to entertain Jeremiah.

I felt empathy mingled with embarrassment for my mother if she were indeed snooping over at Nathaniel's home, especially if she ran into Lizzie. I hoped Lizzie was taking the day off and that Mom wouldn't do anything kooky like write him a love note and affix it to his back door. As long as she had my cell phone, Nathaniel could contact her through Larry. I wondered if he'd called with news. Part of me wished I'd gone with the men to Ohio to be Mom's advocate and to watch the drama evolve.

Zach glared at Armin. “Don't you have a horse to find? Galahad could have crossed the Canadian border by now.”

“Real funny, Dr. Wannabe. Couldn't make it into dental or medical school?” Armin held tight to the reins when Midnight stretched his neck to nab a dandelion.

“I'll have you know, being accepted into a good veterinarian program is as tough as getting into medical or dental school. My phone would ring twenty-four hours a day if I didn't have an answering service.”

“Well, la dee da. Ain't you special?”

Zach worked his jaw. I'll give him this: he didn't retaliate to Armin's baiting. Zach could have pointed out that Armin hadn't gone past the eighth grade, if he were a typical Amish youth. But for all I knew, Armin had furthered his education and wouldn't mention that fact for fear his brother might find out.

“Can we talk about something else?” I said. “For instance, Zach, how's your new receptionist?” I'd met the young lady twice. “Is she working out?”

“I'm not sure. She's come to work late three times.”

“She seems awfully young.”

“She's nineteen and is saving for college next year. Holly, the job's still yours should you want it.”

“You'd make Holly sit at a desk all day talking on the phone scheduling patients?” Armin's voice turned as sugary as Mommy Anna's shoofly pie when he spoke to me. “Holly, I'd never ask you to work outside the home. Unless you wanted to set up a roadside stand selling baked goods or vegetables from the garden. Only if that's something you'd enjoy.”

“Give up, Armin, footloose and fancy-free,” Zach said. “Your track record of following through with commitments isn't stellar.”

“I'm not going to be your audience, Zach Fleming. I've got better things ta do than listen to you put me down in order to build yourself up.” Armin gathered Midnight's reins, inserted his foot in a stirrup, and hoisted himself onto the saddle. The horse came to life and swished its tail. Armin rotated the animal in a tight circle; its front legs raised and its rear hooves carried its weight like a ballet dancer.

“You'd better not let the bishop see you gallivanting around in cowboy boots,” Zach said, sounding preachy.

“You've got your nerve bringin' Bishop Troyer into this conversation—the man who will someday marry Holly and me.”

“Give me a break!” Zach shot him a look of disbelief.

A moment later, Armin and the horse sped away like a jet on a tarmac. Although I knew Armin was showing off, I admired his dexterity and skill in the saddle. I could use some of his moxie. And so could Zach when it came to dealing with Victoria and his mother. I felt dizzy just thinking about it.

“That idiot.” His eyes protruding and his teeth bared, Zach looked livid. He took a deep breath, held it in.

“Don't be so hard on Armin,” I said.

“I've watched his shenanigans most of my life, except for when I was in school and he was off doing the good Lord knows what. Armin's never matured.”

“How do you know so much about him?”

“Keep in mind, as children, we lived down the road from each other.”

“You're not implying you've never made a mistake.” I ran my hand through my hair; my fingers caught in a snarl.

“I've made plenty of mistakes, Holly, but if you're referring to Victoria, I don't know why this is happening. I will not let her propaganda ruin my life or allow Armin to turn you against me.”

I tried to make myself seem half-amused, when in fact I felt like a sinking rowboat. “If I were Justin's parent I'd want to know. Isn't paternity easy to prove or disprove with a DNA test?”

“But she won't let me.”

“All of a sudden you're a helpless victim?”

“In this case, I am, because, as I've told you, I'm not the boy's father.”

“Then what's Victoria's goal?” Her name clogged in my throat like a wad of chewing gum. “She wants you back in her life? Child-support money? Revenge? Why the melodramatic scene at Beth's in front of an innocent child? She must have a motive.”

“I asked her the same questions, but she evaded answering. Not that I'd believe her.” Zach glanced toward the road as a pair of draft horses pulling a wagon stacked high with baled hay plodded past, then turned his gaze to me. “She's stayed in contact with my mother. Mom mentioned Victoria and her husband had a child. But I didn't ask or care if it was a boy or girl.”

“Even after this woman cheated on you, Beth kept her for a friend? Why would she, unless a grandchild were involved?”

“I don't know why my mother does a lot of things. All I care about right now is you and me. If you had a child, I wouldn't hold it against you. I'd accept him or her as my own.”

“So you admit it's a possibility—”

“I admit nothing. I'm not perfect, but in this case I'm innocent. If you don't trust me, maybe we aren't meant to be together.”

He sounded two clicks from instigating our breakup. An icy slice of fear ran through my chest as I realized I could lose him forever. Maybe I already had. “I'm not refusing to trust you,” I said, “but I need to know. If I weren't in the picture, would you take Victoria back?”

“No. She's the last woman I'd turn to. You recall the saying ‘Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me'?”

I was hoping he'd say, “No, because I love you, Holly, and only you.” I examined his blotched face, his pale mouth. I wondered if I was being fair with him. I imagined my parents arguing and then clinging together with increasing love and loyalty.

Heat steamed out from around my neck. The temperature was coolish, but I unzipped my jacket. I figured neither Zach nor I was going to back down until our tempers deflated. Maybe I'd have to come to grips: my knight in shining armor had stayed single as long as I had because he was as messed up as I was.

Zach pulled out his cell phone and tapped in a number on his contact list. “Hello, Rich? It's Zach Fleming. Nathaniel's dappled gray gelding, Galahad, is on the loose. Armin's been searching for him, but so far no luck.”

I heard a man's voice on the other end, but couldn't make out the words.

“And Rich?” Zach said. “Armin's dog has gone missing too. Yeah, the one we were talking about. Better warn your deputies.”

“Thank you,” I said, recalling why I cared for Zach. “I should have thought to call the authorities myself, even if it's not the Amish way to reach out for law enforcement.” I felt my ire ebbing, my distrust subsiding. “Surely somebody's noticed Galahad.”

“Unless he took to a forested area. Or someone unscrupulous caught him and decided to make some extra dough.”

“Why did you mention Armin's dog?” I asked. “I figure Rascal will stick with Galahad or stop at a house with a food bowl on the back stoop.”

“Because—you're not going to like this, Holly. But you didn't see the mangled goat.”

“You mean a farmer might shoot Rascal?”

“If the dog's pestering his stock, yes. And for good reason.”

“Because you're jealous of Armin you'd have Rascal executed?” I was flooded with outrage.

“Holly, once a dog has tasted blood, it's never the same. Their instincts can kick in, like a cat after a bird. We can't blame animals for doing what comes naturally.”

“But you have no proof it was Rascal. I can't believe your attitude. You're a veterinarian. Don't you even like dogs?”

“Of course I do, but I'm a realist. If Rascal isn't the culprit, he's got nothing to worry about.” Zach inched toward me. “I wish you wouldn't take this so hard.”

“I wish a lot of things.”

His hands moved out to me, but I hid mine behind my back. “Do you remember my mother's dog, Missy?” he said.

I nodded as I recalled the gregarious border collie, her ribs extended with a litter of pups.

“Missy's due any day,” he said. “I'm planning to take one home with me, when it's old enough.”

My negative reaction took me by surprise. I was the woman who'd wanted a dog most of her life—except for a brief period, as a child. Call me overly sentimental, but thinking about my cuddly terrier-mix Maxwell's early and sudden death still made me feel glum.

“How could you possibly raise a puppy when you don't even have time to spend with me?” I asked.

“These last few weeks have been gruesome—the worst in years,” he said. “I won't always be so preoccupied. Hiring and training the new receptionist, twice the number of midnight emergency calls than usual, that conference last weekend, and then Victoria's theatrics. I wanted to be spending time with you, Holly, honest.”

A chorus of unanswered questions chanted in my inner ears, echoing through my mind like rocks ricocheting down a well. I needed to gain distance.

“I've got to find Mom. I shudder to think what she's doing.” I moved away from him. “Since your pickup is next to the house, when you leave would you ask Jeremiah to stick around and keep my grandmother company until we return? Mom and I will clean the kitchen.”

“Sure, I'll see you tomorrow morning at nine thirty,” he said to my back as I trotted toward the road, wishing I'd worn running shoes.

“Thanks,” I said over my shoulder. By then, Nathaniel might have found his wife, leaving my mother too bummed out to take Mommy Anna to her doctor's appointment.

I needed Zach's help in more ways than one.

As I hastened toward Nathaniel's, I reminded myself of my many blessings: Mommy Anna, Jeremiah, and even crotchety Beatrice, the house and farm that felt like home. I tried to reinforce my positive thinking as best I could—I'd read self-help books and had counseled friends to look on the cup-half-f side. But in reality, Mom's future teetered on the edge of a cliff, and my storybook romance was crumbling. Life was not fair!