Gloria gazed out the small window in the back of the buggy. “I, um, can’t reveal all the deep, dark details just yet,” she replied, “but they’ll come out eventually. Let’s just say that there’s a lady we need to see, and she owns a consignment shop in Willow Ridge—”
“And I for one plan to spend time there looking around,” Laura put in quickly. “Mamm’s never been to Willow Ridge, but she’s heard that this Simple Gifts shop sells unique things crafted by Plain folks—and she’s heard the restaurant in town is top-notch, too. Sounds promising for lunch, ain’t so?”
Cyrus was too caught up in slipping his hand over Gloria’s to think as far ahead as lunch. “I seem to recall that Willow Ridge had a rogue bishop at one time—but all I know is what I read in The Budget.”
“Jah, he got caught driving a car and got himself excommunicated, among other things,” Jonathan commented. “The column in the paper didn’t give all the details, but he set the restaurant on fire during the Willow Ridge Christmas Eve program, when hundreds of people could’ve been hurt.”
“Oh my,” Gloria murmured. “I hope the restaurant’s open again.”
“It is,” Cyrus reassured her. “The town pulled together and put everything to rights pretty fast, as I recall. Sometimes troublemakers bring out the best in gut-hearted people . . . and I’m hoping it’ll be the same for me, after the trouble I’ve caused you girls. I—I’m really sorry about putting Jonathan up to that stupid bet.”
Gloria’s brown eyes widened as she focused on him. “You’re on the right track, Cyrus,” she said softly. “If Bishop Monroe didn’t believe you deserved another chance, he wouldn’t have let you two escort Laura and me today.”
Cyrus’s heart thudded steadily. It was a good sign that Gloria hadn’t withdrawn her hand from his, and that she was talking so calmly about the conversation she’d overheard on the day of Troyer’s wedding. “Denki for believing in me, girl,” he murmured. “I owe Bishop Monroe a lot for coaching me during our instruction sessions, and for pointing out that it’s not always smart to go for the big finish or the dangerous dare—especially when other people’s feelings are at stake. I should’ve taken his advice to heart.”
“And when he hinted to Sam and Simon that our trip to Willow Ridge is connected to the problems Bishop Clayton has caused, Cyrus and I were all in,” Jonathan added as he stopped the horse at an intersection to check for traffic. “Made me sick—and really suspicious—when King announced he was taking over Promise Lodge and putting Bishop Monroe out. Yet after that initial hoo-hah at Allen’s wedding, he hasn’t done a thing. What’s with that?”
Cyrus had watched Gloria’s face closely as his brother mentioned the bishop from Lancaster County. Without saying a word, she was expressing her own disdain for King. It was clear she knew things she wasn’t telling. “I’m not sure what we’ll find out today,” she said hesitantly, “because Bishop Monroe wants to have all the details in place before he lets a big cat out of the bag. Denki to all of you for helping with this, even though I can’t say anything more about it.”
Intrigued by what might lie ahead of them, Cyrus relaxed in the backseat of the buggy. He felt good knowing that Bishop Monroe had given him a vote of confidence—and he felt even better that Gloria had included him in the day’s mission. Even though her black bonnet and coat covered everything except her face, her cheeks glowed with enthusiasm—and her eyes sparkled when she looked at him.
“I’m looking forward to having you buy us lunch,” she teased softly. “It’s a treat to go to a restaurant for a meal.”
“It’s a treat to treat you,” Cyrus replied quickly. “I guess I’m surprised—but gratified—that Bishop Monroe isn’t the one who’s going to Willow Ridge. If he’s concerned about Bishop Clayton—”
“He’s learned things that convinced him not to leave Promise Lodge for any length of time,” Gloria put in. Her brown eyes widened as she squeezed Cyrus’s hand.
In the front seat, Jonathan was shaking his head again. “Why do I get the feeling Bishop Monroe doesn’t trust King? And that maybe Clayton King’s not who he says he is—maybe not even a real bishop?”
Gloria’s quick intake of breath told Cyrus his brother had hit upon a vital clue.
“That’s it, jah?” he murmured. “When Preacher Amos and Preacher Marlin quizzed King about his accusations early on, they were doubting his authority even then. And now we’re finding out that he’s pulled the wool over our eyes . . . that he’s a fake. A wolf in bishop’s clothing.”
“Which means that when King told us the Council of Bishops wanted a big bunch of money, he probably intended to take it for himself,” Jonathan added vehemently.
When Gloria released the breath she’d been holding, she sounded like a balloon losing its air. Cyrus was sorry they’d spoiled her secret, yet he was also impressed that she’d been involved in discovering proof that Jonathan’s suggestions were true. “Have we got it right?” he asked as he squeezed her hand. “You might as well tell us, sweetie. If Bishop Monroe’s sending us to Willow Ridge to check on King, we’re going to find out about him sooner or later, ain’t so?”
Gloria smiled sheepishly. “Okay, so I’m not so gut at keeping secrets,” she admitted. “But I suppose Bishop Monroe realizes that by the time we return from Willow Ridge, you three will know some of what’s been going on—”
“What are you saying?” Laura demanded as she turned to gaze at Gloria. “If Bishop Clayton’s not a bishop, who is he? And how do you know he’s not?”
Gloria’s cheeks took on some color. “I’m not sure what Bishop Monroe had already found out, but when I showed him a couple of papers that mentioned a fellow in Willow Ridge who consigned clocks to the gift shop we’re visiting today,” she replied in a low voice, “he acted like he’d just found the missing piece of the puzzle he and the preachers have been working on.”
Laura scowled. “Clocks? Why would a guy who runs a Lancaster County bulk food warehouse be involved with clocks?”
“Because he lied about all that stuff,” Jonathan said softly. “Because he doesn’t want us to know who he really is. Wow, this is huge.”
“But—but where did you get those papers?” Laura persisted. “What if we’re making a lot of wrong assumptions—”
“They, um, were in his closet,” Gloria admitted as she looked out the buggy window. “I found a bunch of papers in a wooden crate underneath an English-style man’s suit and necktie, alongside a fancy wheeled suitcase with a laptop computer in it. Which, jah, means I was sticking my nosy nose where it didn’t belong. And I’ve already confessed that to Bishop Monroe.”
Cyrus’s mouth fell open. “Get out!” he whispered. “You sneaked into King’s—what if he’d caught you, Gloria?”
“He was in Coldstream for church.” Gloria licked her lips nervously. “I know it was an awful, deceitful thing to do—and maybe now that you know I did it, you won’t want to go out with me anymore.”
Cyrus was touched by her fearful expression, even as he clutched her hand between his. “Are you kidding me? I wish I had thought of it!” he replied in an admiring whisper. “All this time we’ve been wondering about King—or whoever he is—and you stopped speculating and took action.”
Gloria gazed at him gratefully. Cyrus sensed he’d just gotten into her good graces again, simply because he’d taken her seriously. Who would’ve guessed that the flighty, flirty girl who’d chased after Allen Troyer so relentlessly with her bad brownies would be the one to outfox an impostor out to take advantage of all the folks at Promise Lodge?
The more Cyrus thought about this, the more impressed he was with Gloria. She’d taken action—improper as it was—and she’d reported her findings to Bishop Monroe so he could move in on Clayton King from the position of utmost authority in Promise Lodge. She could’ve gone running out of Lester’s place waving her evidence around, babbling about that English suit and laptop computer, but she’d known better. She’d shown maturity and
discretion . . . and maybe he could take a few lessons from her on those topics.
“So that’s why he always sat in his room while Mamm and I were cleaning at Lester’s place,” Laura said disgustedly. “He didn’t want us finding his—his disguise.”
“He didn’t want us women to discover the truth,” Gloria agreed. “What galls me is that he’s been wrangling a free stay out of us—meals and laundry and a room at Lester’s—while he’s been lying to us. And meanwhile he’s been pointing the finger at Phineas for committing an unforgivable sin!”
“Well, our trip has already taken an interesting turn, and we’re still an hour away from Willow Ridge,” Jonathan remarked as he steered the horse onto another county highway. “Who knows what else we might learn when we get there?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
As they passed through the bustling town of Morning Star, Gloria gazed out the buggy window. “Do you suppose Willow Ridge is anything like this place?”
“According to Bishop Monroe’s directions, we’ll find out in about ten minutes,” Laura replied. “It’s fun to see all these new places—and I’m glad we didn’t come by ourselves, Gloria. I suspect we’d have gotten lost, trying to find so many different roads!”
“Probably so,” Gloria agreed. She smiled at Cyrus. “Guys can come in handy sometimes.”
Cyrus’s wink sent little tremors up her spine. During the entire ride he’d held her hand without making her feel he was holding her to any further commitment. “As we were hitching up the horse this morning, Jonathan and I agreed that today’s trip was truly a gift because you girls were willing to spend the day with us,” he said softly.
“And we might be able to get more help for Bishop Monroe just because we’re guys,” Jonathan pointed out. “As King has reminded us so often, you ladies have gotten used to having more say-so than Amish women who live in more conservative church districts.”
Gloria nodded and took the two sheets of paper from her coat pocket. What did she have to gain by keeping them to herself? “We’ll be looking for Nora Hooley at the Simple Gifts shop,” she remarked as she handed the papers to Cyrus. “She accepted three clocks from a man named Cornelius Riehl—and I have another sheet about some clock repairs this Cornelius was going to do for a customer. Somehow, when Bishop Monroe saw the estimate for the repairs, he knew we’d painted Clayton King into a corner he wasn’t going to get out of.”
Cyrus glanced at the page from the shop and then studied the handwritten estimate. “I have no idea how this Riehl clock fellow can be Clayton King,” he said after a few moments. “But there must be a connection, if you found the papers in the closet of the room King’s staying in. Why else would he have these papers stashed away?”
“And why else would he be hiding them?” Laura pointed out.
Jonathan let out a short laugh. “King’s going to wish he hadn’t carted such documents along with him,” he remarked. “What other kinds of papers did you see, Gloria?”
She shook her head. “I was sure Bishop Clayton was going to catch me rifling through his crate—and the light wasn’t gut enough to read by,” she added. “So I stuffed these two sheets in my pocket and hightailed it out of there. Maybe God and Dat’s spirit were telling me to move along, or maybe it was just my guilty conscience.”
“Jah, guilt’s a powerful motivator,” Cyrus murmured as he gave the papers back to Gloria. He pointed out the window. “The sign says we’re only two miles from Willow Ridge. Won’t be long until these mysteries are solved—and by then I’ll be ready to chow down in that restaurant you were telling us about. Playing detective is hungry work.”
Gloria nodded, gazing eagerly at the passing scenery. Soon the road made a big curve around a pasture where sheep were grazing. As they saw the sign for the Willow Ridge town limits, they spotted a farm with red barns where a herd of black-and-white Holsteins looked up from the hay bales they were munching on.
“Dairy cows and sheep so far—just like at Promise Lodge,” Gloria remarked as her pulse quickened.
“Jah, and over in that orchard I see some white beehives like Ruby’s,” Laura said.
Cyrus moved closer to Gloria so he could gaze out the window on her side. “And they’ve got a vineyard here, just getting started by the looks of it.”
Gloria’s breathing quickened as Cyrus remained so close to her that his breath tickled her neck like a feather. “It’s a nice town,” she whispered.
“And you’re a nice girl, patient and kind,” he murmured. “Am I doing okay so far? I really don’t want to mess up this time.”
As he eased away from her, Gloria smiled shyly at him. What a difference in his behavior, compared to the swaggering bravado he’d always shown before. “I won’t be pushing you out of the buggy any time soon,” she teased softly. “I—I’m glad you came along, Cyrus. Now that we’re getting close to the store, I’m feeling antsy.”
“The instructions say to turn left at this intersection, onto the state highway,” Laura said. She leaned forward in the front seat to help Jonathan watch for traffic. “Oh, look! There’s a quilt shop and a place called the Grill N Skillet. Is that the café you’ve heard about, Gloria?”
“I can already smell the meat they’re cooking—and look at those big metal grills behind the building,” Cyrus said, inhaling deeply. “Yessirree, that’s where we’re heading for lunch—and I’ll be happy to pick up the tab!”
“And up the hill from there’s a big red barn with a sign that says ‘Simple Gifts,’” Laura put in excitedly. “We’re here!”
“That’s it!” Gloria’s stomach tightened. “I sure hope Nora’s at her store today. What if it’s closed on Mondays? Or what if she’s not working—”
“We can ask the folks at the café where to find her,” Jonathan reassured her as he turned the buggy onto the state highway. “You know how it is in Plain towns. Everybody knows everybody. Willow Ridge looks like a great place.”
As the buggy pulled into the parking lot of the Simple Gifts store a few moments later, Gloria wondered if she’d be able to talk once she got inside. It was one thing to snoop in Uncle Lester’s house, but it was another thing altogether to show the papers she’d brought to a complete stranger. “Oh, but I hope this goes all right,” she murmured. “What if—”
“What if we pray about it before we go inside?” Cyrus asked quietly. “Who knows how folks might react when we tell them why we’re here?”
Gloria gazed at Cyrus with a sense of grateful wonder. “That’s a fine idea,” she replied as he wrapped his hand around hers again.
After the four of them bowed their heads, Cyrus began. “God, we’re here to learn the truth about a fellow calling himself Clayton King, who came to Promise Lodge supposedly to do Your work,” he said in a low, clear voice. “We need all the help we can get, so denki for being with us. Amen.”
The simple, direct prayer made Gloria feel more confident about what they were about to do. Once again she was pleasantly surprised at Cyrus’s quiet, take-charge demeanor—and she’d never anticipated that he would invoke God’s presence.
“All right, here we go,” she murmured. “We’re all in this together.”
“How can we go wrong if we do our best and let God do the rest?” Jonathan asked with a gentle smile.
After they got out of the buggy, Gloria admired the colorful bunches of Indian corn tied on either side of the shop’s door, as well as wreaths made with silk fall foliage, acorns, and small bunches of bittersweet. After Jonathan had hitched the horse to the rail on the side of the building, she took a deep breath and opened the shop door.
Scents of warm vanilla and cinnamon enveloped her as they stepped inside the most fascinating store she’d ever seen. Displays of beautiful Amish-made furniture, sets of pottery dishes, and colorful handmade baskets caught her eye first. Beyond that she saw a couple of ornately tooled saddles and a garden gate that reminded her of the decorative welded metalwork Noah Schwartz was so good at. When Gloria
glanced toward the upper level, her eyes widened.
“Laura, would you look at those banners?” she whispered loudly, grabbing her friend’s arm. “Am I seeing things, or are that little girl and boy on a swing wearing a real kapp and straw hat?”
A woman in the next aisle looked up from the kitchen linens she was straightening. Her red hair was tucked up into a bun beneath a round black kapp, and her calf-length calico dress suggested that she was Mennonite. “You’ve got it right,” she said as she approached the four of them with a freckle-faced smile. “Feel free to go upstairs for a closer look—or to ask me about anything you see here. Everything in my store has been crafted by Plain folks from around mid Missouri, and what with the upcoming holidays, we’ve got quite a nice selection right now.”
Gloria’s heart thudded hard in her chest. “Are—are you Nora Hooley, by chance?” she asked as her hand closed around the two folded papers in her coat pocket.
“I am! How can I help you folks?” she replied pleasantly.
Glancing around, Gloria was relieved that the only other people in the store were at the opposite end of the room. She looked at Cyrus, Laura, and Jonathan to bolster her courage. “We—we’re hoping you can tell us something about a man who’s come to Promise Lodge, where we live,” she began in a rush. “We think he’s up to something underhanded—”
Hoping the papers in her pocket would express her meaning better than her uncertain words, Gloria thrust them at Nora.
One look made Nora’s jaw drop. She glanced at the page from her shop and then at the handwritten estimate, her eyes widening. “You know where this man is?” she whispered.
Gloria nodded, sensing the urgency of Nora’s question. Her body trembled as though she’d plugged it into an electrical socket.
Nora glanced toward the people at the store’s other end. “Let’s talk in my office,” she murmured, walking toward the checkout counter.
Eyes wide, Gloria fell into step behind Nora. When the five of them had entered the small room behind the cash registers, the shopkeeper closed the door and looked at them gravely. “Are you saying Cornelius Riehl has come to your settlement? The young woman who’s working for me this morning is his daughter, Rosalyn, so I don’t want her to get wind of this just yet,” she explained quickly. “When you say underhanded, exactly what do you mean?”
Light Shines on Promise Lodge Page 20