“Right.” Brad bent down and picked up the cactus. “I came into town a few days early, and since I’d bought this for you, I decided to drop by before going to my friend Ned’s place.”
She looked up, offering him one of her sweet smiles. “I’m glad you did. Now please come inside out of the cold. The way it’s snowing right now, the flakes are beginning to blow in on the porch.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Brad followed Mary Ruth into the house and handed her the plant. The house was pleasantly warm and just as inviting as he remembered. It made him wish the snow would fall a little harder so he could stay.
“Thank you, Brad. This is a lovely cactus, and it was so thoughtful of you.” She placed it on the table in the entryway. “Come into the living room now. Sara is waiting there, and I’d like to introduce her to you.”
Brad raised his eyebrows but remained silent. Why would Mary Ruth need to introduce me to Sara? After all the time I spent with her this summer, I should know Sara pretty well by now. Could Mary Ruth be in on the little charade Willis set up?
When Brad entered the living room, he was surprised to see the blond-haired woman who had claimed to be Sara sitting on the couch.
“Brad, this is our granddaughter Sara.” Mary Ruth gestured to the young woman, then motioned to him. “Sara, this is Brad Fuller. As we mentioned before, he will be our guest for Christmas dinner.”
“But I thought …” He quickly ended his comment. Holding his earlobe between his thumb and index finger, Brad gave it a tug. He was about to ask if Mary Ruth was teasing him, when a woman with auburn hair, wearing an Amish dress and a white kapp on her head, entered the room.
“Oh Brad, you came early.” She came slowly toward him.
He stared at her in disbelief. It was Sara—the one he’d gotten to know this past summer.
“I need to confess something. My name isn’t Sara Murray—it’s Michelle Taylor.” Her eyes glistened with tears as she pointed to the blond-haired woman. “She’s the real Sara, and I–I’m an imposter. At least, I was when you thought I was her.”
Brad’s muscles tightened and his head jerked back. He was speechless. Apparently this was no joke. He, however, felt like a fool. How could this woman who’d pretended to be the Lapps’ granddaughter have pulled the wool over his eyes? I’m a smart man, Brad told himself. I should have sensed she was lying to me. And what about the Lapps? How did they feel when they found out the truth?
From the affection Brad saw on Mary Ruth’s face as she looked at Michelle, he realized there was no displeasure. If he were being honest with himself, Brad had to admit there had always been this feeling about the young woman named Michelle that hadn’t seemed right. It was as though she’d been hiding something, yet he couldn’t discern what it was. He’d let his guard down and had foolishly been taken in by her. He should have gone with his gut instinct and asked the right questions or probed deeper into her personal life.
Brad pressed his lips tightly together, lest he say the wrong thing. Now it all made sense. He felt a mixture of betrayal and anger. And on top of his frustration with Michelle, here sat the real Sara Murray, and he had no idea what to say to either of them. The way Sara sat with her arms folded, he doubted she wanted to talk at all. But Brad couldn’t leave until he had some answers. Not only about the reason Michelle had lied to him, but he wanted to know why she was dressed in Amish clothes.
Chapter 14
Sara sat on the couch, too stunned to say a word. So this is the same man who sent that letter to Michelle, thinking she was my grandparents’ granddaughter. Brad was completely in the dark about Michelle’s deceit. No wonder he looks so confused and somewhat disturbed. Poor guy.
“I—I should go,” Brad mumbled, shuffling toward the front door. “I need time to think about all of this.”
“Wait, Brad. Please let me explain.” Michelle’s voice shook as she clasped his arm.
He stopped walking. “Think I’ve heard enough.”
Grandma stepped forward. “Brad, I think you ought to at least hear her out before you go.”
He sank into the closest chair. “Okay, Michelle, you have my undivided attention.”
Sara could tell by the way his knee bounced that he’d rather be anyplace but here. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. The unsuspecting man had been duped, just like she and her grandparents had. But now it was time for him to hear the full story—or at least, Michelle’s version of it. When the pretender finishes telling her side of things, maybe I’ll jump in with my part of the story. She clasped her hands tightly together. Or maybe it would be best if I kept quiet and let her do all the talking. No matter what Michelle says, unless Brad is gullible, he will surely see her for what she is.
Sara still couldn’t get over all the drama Michelle had caused by pretending to be her. Why couldn’t she have just told Grandma and Grandpa she wasn’t their granddaughter when she met them at the bus station in Philly?
Turning her attention fully on Michelle, Sara watched as she sniffed, then swiped at the tears on her reddened cheeks. She was either fully embarrassed to be forced into confessing her misdeed to Brad, or Michelle had become an actress.
Sara noticed Michelle’s obvious discomfort as she leaned slightly forward with her arms held against her chest. No doubt she was using these few extra minutes to think about what she wanted to say.
“My real name is Michelle Taylor, and I’m no relation to Mary Ruth and Willis. I was at the bus station in Philadelphia, needing a place to go, when I met the Lapps, and they assumed I was their granddaughter.” Michelle took a seat in the recliner. It was the one Grandpa usually sat in. Then more explanation spilled forth.
“Desperate to get out of Philly, I went along with it and came here with them, pretending I was the woman they’d been looking for.” She paused and drew a shaky breath. “I’m sorry for deceiving you, Brad. What I did was wrong, and I hope, like Mary Ruth and Willis did, that you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.”
Sara glanced at Brad, waiting for his reaction. Would he be as forgiving as her grandparents had been, or would this man put Michelle in her place? She hoped it would be the latter.
“I forgive you, Michelle.” Brad spoke softly. “But I wish you had told me the truth on your own during the time we spent together this past summer.”
“I—I wanted to, and I almost did on one occasion, but I was afraid of your response. I was worried it would ruin our friendship, and I was afraid you would tell the Lapps.” Michelle blotted the tears on her cheeks. “Also, I’d gotten in so deep with my trail of lies, I didn’t know how to get out without hurting someone.” She looked at Sara’s grandmother. “Especially Mary Ruth and Willis. During the time I was living here, I came to love them and almost felt as if they were actually my grandparents. In the end, it seems I hurt everyone.” Michelle glanced in Sara’s direction.
Sara grimaced at the sour taste in her mouth. She pressed her lips together to keep from blurting out what she thought. Nice performance, Michelle.
“We felt love for Michelle too—when we believed she was Sara, and yes even now,” Grandma put in.
Sara could hardly hold her composure. I knew it. I bet they love her more than me.
“When did you tell them the truth?” Brad’s question was directed at Michelle.
“A few months ago. I had been intercepting Sara’s letters, and when her last one came, saying she’d be coming here soon, I realized it was time to go.” Michelle lowered her gaze, fingering the ties on her head covering. “I couldn’t face Mary Ruth and Willis with the truth, so I took the coward’s way out and left a note on the kitchen table, confessing what I’d done. Then I asked one of their drivers to take me to Harrisburg. And that’s where I lived till Ezekiel came and talked me into coming back here.”
“After she apologized, we invited her to stay with us again.” Mary Ruth smiled as she gestured to Michelle. “Now she is preparing to join the Amish church.”
Brad’
s eyebrows lifted. “So that must be why you’re wearing an Amish dress.”
Michelle nodded. “Ezekiel and I are both planning to join the church in the spring. We’ve already started taking classes.” Her tone was enthusiastic. “He and the Lapps have been helpful with teaching me how to speak the Pennsylvania Dutch language.”
“Michelle is a good learner. I think she’ll do just fine becoming Amish like us.” Mary Ruth’s face seemed to radiate with joy.
Sara sat, biting her tongue through all this “Michelle” time. Please give me strength … Oh, how I want to say what’s really on my mind about the pretender. I’d like Brad to know how she has pushed her way into my grandparents’ lives. Sara hoped he wasn’t taken in by Michelle’s sob story.
Brad rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, this is certainly a surprise. I’m happy for you, Michelle.”
“Does that mean I’m forgiven for deceiving you?”
“Of course, but I’ll admit, I am disappointed you didn’t come and talk to me about this when I was here during the summer.”
Michelle dropped her gaze. “I know.”
At that moment, Grandpa entered the room. “My chores are done.” He grinned at Brad. “Now we can sit and visit awhile. I’d like to know how things have been going for you these last few months.” He looked at Grandma. “But before we do that, why don’t the two of us go to the kitchen and get some coffee and something sweet to serve?”
Grandma rose from her seat. “That’s an excellent idea, Willis.”
Sara was on the verge of asking if they wanted her help, when Brad turned to her and said, “Sorry if it seemed as though you were being ignored or left out of the conversation since I got here. I’d like the chance to visit with you too.”
“Maybe some other time. I have a few things I need to do in my room.” She fled the room and raced up the stairs. She needed time by herself to process things. Apparently Brad was taken in by Michelle, like her grandparents were. Sara wondered if there was anything she could have said to make him see what Michelle was really like.
Upstairs in her room, Sara went to the window and opened it, sucking in some much-needed air. Snowflakes blew in onto the window ledge, while others melted onto the floor. She’d never expected Brad would show up, or that he’d be sucked in by Michelle and her excuses.
Sara stood, immersed in thought, continuing to calm herself as she breathed in the fresh, crisp air the opened window allowed. As the snowflakes continued falling and a squirrel scampered through the backyard, she watched this tranquil moment while using her fingers to rub circular motions around her throbbing temples. I hope Brad finds out for himself what a fake Michelle is. She can’t fool everyone forever. Sooner or later the imposter is bound to trip up and someone will finally see through her.
As Brad sat in the living room, enjoying coffee and some of Mary Ruth’s delicious sticky buns, his thoughts went to Sara. She was a beautiful young woman, with shiny blond hair that reminded him of spun gold. But she had been anything but cordial. In fact, throughout his conversation with Michelle, Sara seemed agitated. Could there be something about him she disliked, or was she upset with Michelle for stealing her identity? If that was the case, he couldn’t blame her, but then why would she be living here at the Lapps’ with Michelle? For that matter, it seemed strange Mary Ruth and Willis would invite Michelle to live here, knowing she had impersonated their granddaughter. Not to mention that the real Sara was here too.
Licking his fingers, Brad reached for another sticky bun.
Michelle giggled and handed him a napkin. “Here, looks like you need this.”
“Thanks.” Brad’s answer was stiff as he watched Michelle’s smile slowly fade and her eyes look downward.
He shifted on his chair. Wish I had a chance to talk to Sara privately. I’d like to know what her thoughts are about Michelle. If she’s holding a grudge against her, I might be able to help—or at least offer some support if she needs it.
“Say, Brad, didn’t you hear what I asked?”
Willis’s question pulled Brad’s thoughts aside. “Uh no. Sorry, I must have spaced out.” He turned his attention to Willis. “What did you ask?”
The older man held out the plate of sticky buns. “Wondered if you’d like another one of these.”
“No thanks, I’d better not.” Brad thumped his stomach. “I’ve already had two, and if I eat another I’ll be too full to join my friend Ned for lunch.”
“You could stay and eat here,” Mary Ruth suggested. “We’d be happy to have you share our noon meal.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I should get going. Ned will probably be wondering why I haven’t shown up yet.” Glancing out the window, Brad set his coffee cup down and stood. “The snow hasn’t let up, so it’s probably good I’m leaving now. I’ll be back for Christmas dinner though.” He grinned at Mary Ruth. “Wouldn’t want to miss out on your holiday meal, which I am sure will be delicious.”
“You don’t have to wait until Christmas to come over,” Michelle interjected.
“That’s right,” Mary Ruth agreed. “Feel free to come over any day you like.”
“How about tomorrow?” Willis poured himself another cup of coffee. “Sara will be working at the flower shop in town, but the rest of us will be around.”
“I can’t say for sure whether I’ll be by tomorrow, but it will be soon, I promise.” Brad’s face radiated heat as he noticed Michelle watching him intently. It looked as if she might say something, but she sat quietly with one hand on her hip.
Brad said his goodbyes, put on his jacket, and went out the door. When he climbed into his van and waited for the engine to warm, he saw Michelle rush out of the house with a shawl around her shoulders, as she ran toward the barn.
I hope she’s okay. Brad thought to himself. I probably should have stayed and talked to her more. She’s been through quite an ordeal and had a lot of guilt to deal with before she admitted the truth to Mary Ruth and Willis.
Brad rubbed his hands in front of the vent, where the heat was now flowing. He waited a few minutes longer to see if Michelle would come out of the barn. Should I go in and talk to her—see if she’s upset? He thumped the steering wheel. No, I’d better go. If Michelle went there to be alone, she might not appreciate me barging in.
Brad put the van in reverse and turned toward the road. Maybe tomorrow I’ll take a ride into Strasburg and see if I can find the flower shop where Sara works. If I go shortly before noon, I might be able catch her before she takes a lunch break. There are a few questions I’d like to ask.
Chapter 15
Lancaster, Pennsylvania
Where you headed, sleepyhead?” Ned asked when Brad grabbed his jacket and slipped it on.
“I’m going to Strasburg. Thought I mentioned it last night before we went to bed.”
“If you did, I don’t remember.” Ned combed his fingers through his thick brown hair. “But then you didn’t have a lot to say after you got here. Figured you were tired from the trip, so I didn’t ply you with a bunch of questions about how things were going at the seminary or in your personal life. Oh, and since you slept in so late, you totally missed breakfast, and I was going to make you a good one too.” He pointed to the frying pan sitting on a hot pad near the stove. “Before you walked into the kitchen, I was about to come knocking on your door. Didn’t think you’d want to sleep all day.”
“Yeah, I was kinda out of it.”
“Did you sleep okay on that new mattress in the other bedroom?”
“It was fine.” Brad managed a weak smile. As tired as he was, he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, thinking about the situation with Michelle and Sara. A ton of questions reeled through his head, none of which he had the answer to. Brad saw no point in telling Ned any of that though. “Since I’ll be here till New Year’s, we’ll have a chance to get caught up with each other’s lives.” He zipped up his jacket.
“Good point.” Ned smiled.
“It’s ok
ay. I’ll be eating lunch soon. And hey, I’ll take a raincheck on that breakfast.”
“You got it.” Ned headed to his desk. “Welp, I have some bills to pay, and I need to get them done and in the mail before noon. You have a nice day, and I’ll catch you later.”
Brad waved and went out the door. He was eager to get to Strasburg, although unsure of what he would say when he saw Sara.
Strasburg
Michelle opened her closet door and looked at the English clothes still hanging there. I should put these in boxes and give them to a thrift store.
She pulled a blouse off the hanger and held it up to see what shape it was in. This was one of her favorite tops. She enjoyed wearing it for special occasions.
Michelle placed the blouse on the bed and stood back. But I need to move on, and the only way to do that is to purge all of these English clothes.
She went back to the closet and removed the rest of her clothes from their hangers. After folding them into piles, she put the items in plastic bags, ready to be taken to the thrift store.
Now I need to get busy and make more Amish clothes. Michelle slid the hangers to one end of her closet. She then headed for Mary Ruth’s sewing room and took a seat at the treadle machine. As Michelle worked on another plain dress to add to her wardrobe, it felt as if she might be getting the hang of things. Maybe I won’t need to call on Mary Ruth for help so much anymore.
She’d never expected to enjoy such a simple pleasure as sewing a dress, much less be able to make it herself. She didn’t remember her biological mother sewing. And even though Michelle had seen her foster mom at the sewing machine a few times, she’d never volunteered to teach Michelle how to sew.
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