by Pamela Bauer
“I have to find out who I am.”
“I know who you are,” he told her.
“You know the woman you want me to be,” she said quietly. Someone called out to her in German and she looked back over her shoulder and waved. “I have to go. Tell Megan and Lori I will call them.” She choked back a sob and turned away from him.
It took all of his willpower not to grab her and put her in the car and take her home. As he drove away from the farm he saw her being taken into the white farmhouse surrounded by people who regarded him as an outsider.
At the moment he felt very much like he was outside of Faith’s life. He only hoped that it wouldn’t be long before he was back on the inside.
AS SOON AS ADAM WAS gone, Faith had an overwhelming urge to pull out the cell phone and tell him to come right back and get her. But she couldn’t. For months she’d been wanting to find the key to unlock her past. Now it was there right in front of her. She needed to do whatever she could to get to know the woman they called Esther Miller. These people were her family—something she’d been longing to have ever since she woke up with no memory. Now she wasn’t going to turn away from them simply because their lifestyle was not what she’d expected.
One of the first things her father had said to her was, “Sarah will see that you are dressed properly.” While the men went back to their work outdoors, Sarah took Faith to the attic where she lifted the lid on a cedar chest and said, “These are yours.”
Faith looked inside at several piles of clothing, all neatly folded. She reached for a dark blue dress, shaking it out as she pulled it from the trunk. It looked very similar to the one that Sarah wore. As Faith held it up to her shoulders she frowned. She examined the dress, noticing there were no buttons, only hooks and eyes.
“You should wear the black one since it’s not been a year yet since Mam died,” Sarah advised her in a serious tone.
Faith noticed the black one was identical to the blue one. Next she picked up a black pleated cap.
“Your prayer kappe,” Sarah said. “Married women wear white, single women and girls wear black.” Which would explain why Faith’s nieces also all wore black.
Faith glanced around the attic, looking for something familiar, but all she saw were somebody else’s treasures. “This is an old house, isn’t it?” she said, noticing the aging timbers of the roof.
“Ja. You were born and raised here. You don’t remember any of it?”
She shook her head. “Some of the past is slowly coming back—like pictures on a postcard. I see things pop into my head.”
“What kind of things?”
“Like the wash frozen stiff on the line.”
Sarah smiled in understanding. “Mondays are not my favorite days, especially in winter.”
“But you keep doing the laundry even though it’s freezing cold.” Faith had sorted through everything in the trunk. “Do we have to wear dresses all the time?”
Sarah took it as a criticism, her shoulders stiffening as she said, “It is a good life, Es. You shouldn’t run away from it.”
“Is that what I did?”
She shrugged. “It’s not for me to say. Levi says you may have been taken against your will.”
“By whom?”
“Someone English.”
Faith wondered if that was why she had been assaulted. “I guess we won’t know until my memory returns, will we?”
“You want Levi to carry this to your room?”
“If that’s where I’m going to be, yes. Which room is it?”
“You don’t remember?”
When she shook her head, Sarah said she would give her a tour of the house. Besides the large kitchen, there were five bedrooms, a pantry and a family room.
“Where do I shower?” Faith asked.
“The washhouse is out back.”
After a brief tour of the outbuildings, Faith was relieved to return to the house. Mary Ellen’s room was very similar to the other bedrooms and familiar to Faith because it was the one she’d seen in a flashback. It was simply furnished with a bed and a chest of drawers with a quilt covering the single-size mattress. At nine years old Mary Ellen was three years older than Megan, yet there were few things to identify this as a room belonging to a young girl. Except for a shelf that held religious books and a few board games stacked neatly to one side, it had nothing in common with the pink princess room Megan enjoyed. There was, however, a doll made out of cloth on the bed. It was dressed in the traditional Amish clothing and had no face. Suddenly the dream she’d had the night she’d met Adam made sense.
Levi had brought the chest containing her clothes down from the attic. Because Sarah had suggested she change into her Amish clothes for dinner out of respect for her father, she had complied, but after only a few hours of wearing the long, heavy dress she longed to be back in her shorts and tank top. If she’d hoped that putting on one of her old dresses and pinning her hair up under her prayer kappe would give her a sense of purpose and an awareness of who she was, she was in for a disappointment. All she felt was out of place.
By the time the sun had set on her first day as Esther Miller, she was tired. She sat on the front porch, listening to the silence. The sound of the screen door creaking told her she had company. She looked up to see Levi had taken the chair next to hers.
“Are you all right?” He spoke in German.
She wasn’t. She was lonely and missing St. Paul. Seeing how happy her brother was because she was back she didn’t have the heart to tell him that. “I’m fine. Thank you for asking. Everything feels strange yet familiar at the same time. I know that doesn’t make sense, but it’s the way it is.”
“I’m glad you’re here with us, Es.” His voice was strong and sincere.
“Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality.”
“It’s not hospitality. You belong here, Es, more than Sarah and I do. Mam wanted you to have this house. Sarah and I only moved here because we thought you weren’t coming back.”
Curious, she asked, “Where were you living?”
“Down near Granger. Sarah’s brother moved into the house we had there.” He leaned closer to her and whispered, “No one is supposed to know but he’s planning to marry Katie Schultheimer this fall.”
“It’s a secret?”
“That’s our way, Es. All weddings are kept secret until two weeks before the ceremony. People usually guess something’s going on though when they see the extra celery being planted.”
The wedding food. She knew now why she’d mentioned it that night she’d cooked dinner for Adam’s grandfather.
“This is like old times, us sitting on the front porch,” her brother reminisced.
“Were we close while we were growing up?”
“Ja. All of us were. It is our way, Es.”
She sighed. “I wish I could remember.”
“You never liked the farm chores. You wanted to help Mam in the house, but Dat used to make you clean out the gutter in the barn and pitch manure the same as us boys. There are always plenty of chores on a farm,” he said with a good-natured grin.
“What was our mother like?”
“She was good and kind. She never said a mean word about anyone. You look a lot like her and you have her patience.”
She had looked for a picture of her in the house, but there had been none. Sarah had told her the Amish don’t believe in graven images. Unfortunately for Faith, the only pictures she had of her mother were locked up in her memory.
“You look tired, Es. You should go to bed. Tomorrow is another day and four-thirty comes early.”
“We get up that early?”
“We’re not like the lazy English,” he scoffed.
“All English are not lazy,” she shot back, thinking of how hard Adam worked. “You shouldn’t make such generalizations.”
“Now you even sound like Mam,” he said with a grin.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should.
”
There was another silence between them before he said, “I know what the English are like, Es. I did my running around with the English when I was a teen.”
She looked at him in surprise. “And Mam and Dat allowed that?”
“All Amish parents do. They turn their heads and look the other way while teens experiment with the English way. It’s called rumspringa. Parents don’t like it, but they know that once the children see that fancy clothes and fast cars are not what makes them happy, they’ll come back.”
Curious, she asked, “You didn’t like your time with the English?”
“Ja, I admit it was fun for a while. I went to the movies, I played the video games, I listened to rock music, but it’s not the way for me. I didn’t have to be baptized, Es. I could have left and never come back.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I belong here. So do you.”
“I don’t feel as if I do,” she admitted candidly.
“That’s because of the amnesia. In time you’ll see you do,” her brother stated.
Faith wasn’t so sure. She’d seen the look on her father’s face when Sarah had set her place at the table. Although Levi had assured her she wouldn’t be shunned, Faith knew that church law was strict. The only reason why she didn’t suffer the same fate as others who left the Amish community was because she hadn’t been baptized. She didn’t understand why.
Most Amish were baptized between eighteen and twenty-one, yet she was almost twenty-seven and hadn’t officially become a member of the church. The more Faith learned about the rules and regulations of the Amish religion, the better she understood why she hadn’t decided to become an official member of the church.
As she crawled into the bed that she’d slept in as a child, she wasn’t filled with nostalgia. It didn’t feel warm and familiar, but cold and strange. She thought about all the nights she’d gone to sleep at the Carsons, wishing she were in her own bed with her own family. Now she was and she wished she was back in St. Paul.
She pulled out the cell phone Adam had given her and dialed his number. Her heart pounded in her chest in anticipation of hearing his voice. Only he never answered. She got his voice mail.
Feeling extremely lonely, she dialed Lori’s number. She answered on the first ring and Faith could have jumped for joy. Knowing that the rest of the house was in silence and that she was breaking one of the most important rules of the community—having a telephone in the house—she kept her conversation short.
When Lori asked if she, Matthew and Megan could visit, Faith suggested she come on Sunday afternoon when Sarah and Levi would be taking the kids to Granger to visit Sarah’s brother. When Lori asked if she could bring her anything, Faith asked if she wouldn’t mind picking up a few of her things from the Carsons’.
On Sunday, the first thing Megan said to her when they arrived was “You look different.”
Faith gave her a hug. “My clothes may be different but inside I’m the same me.”
“I brought you a picture,” she said, handing her a drawing of stick people. “It’s me and my dad on the boat.”
Faith’s heart contracted when she looked at the drawing. She gave Megan another hug. “Thank you. I’m going to put this in the house and then I’ll show you around the farm.”
With Matthew in a stroller and Megan clinging to Faith’s hand, the four of them headed for the barn, which was empty.
“Where are the cows?” Megan asked.
“Out in the pasture. They’ll be back when it’s milking time this evening.”
Next she showed them the chicken coop where she let Megan hold a baby chick. Faith expected it to be awkward having them at the farm, but it wasn’t. She was just happy to see them.
When Lori suggested they drive into Harmony for an ice cream, Faith knew she should say no, but she didn’t want to disappoint Megan.
She should have expected the whispers and stares. An Amish woman was seldom seen climbing out of an Audi, and although Amish did patronize the ice-cream parlor, it didn’t happen on a Sunday and with the English in tow.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Lori said apologetically.
“No, it’s fine. I’m glad you came.”
Then Megan said, “When are you coming back from your vacation?”
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
“How come you’re not wearing your bracelet?” Megan asked when she noticed Faith’s leather wrist strap was missing.
“I put it in a special place,” Faith told her, reluctant to tell her that Amish women were forbidden to wear any type of jewelry.
Back at the farm, as they prepared to leave Lori asked her, “When are you coming back?” When Faith didn’t respond immediately, she added, “You are coming back, aren’t you?”
“I want to,” she said.
“Then come back,” she stated.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
How could she explain what she didn’t understand herself? As much as she felt she didn’t belong in the Amish community, there was something keeping her there. Maybe it was her past. Whatever the reason, part of her felt as if she belonged with Levi and his family.
The baby began to fuss, putting an end to any further conversation. “Look, I know you want to understand your past, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.”
Faith thanked her and gave her a hug. “Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.” She leaned into the car to kiss each of the children goodbye.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Faith,” Lori said, then climbed into her car and drove back to the city.
“I do, too,” Faith mumbled to herself as the car rolled out of sight. “I do, too.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“LOOKS LIKE THE TRIP wore them out,” Adam said to Lori as he glanced into the back seat of her car where Megan and Matthew had both fallen asleep.
“It was a long day,” his sister-in-law said, stretching as she climbed out of the car. She didn’t close her door, but leaned up against the frame to talk to him. “We did a lot of walking. Faith gave us a tour of the farm. It’s beautiful country down there—everything’s so neat and pristine looking.”
“How is she?” He was hungry for information about her—anything that Lori could tell him.
“She says she’s fine.”
“And you believe her?”
“Have you ever known Faith to lie?”
He hadn’t. “She doesn’t return my phone calls.”
“She’s not supposed to use the telephone.”
“She phoned you.”
Her face softened in understanding. “She’s trying to sort through everything that she’s discovered.”
“Has her memory returned?”
“I wish it had. Maybe then she’d leave.”
“She might not want to,” he said soberly.
“Are you kidding? That way of life is so not Faith. They’ve got rules about everything…what you wear, where you sit, what you can read, what you can’t read.”
“I guess unless you grow up in that world you don’t understand the attraction,” he noted.
“It’s hard to believe Faith did grow up there. She may lead a simple life and have modest needs, but she has an insatiable thirst for knowledge. I think she’s read nearly every book in our library. And she loves the art institute and the science museum. You know that.” He nodded in agreement. “It doesn’t make sense that she would want to stay in a society that doesn’t allow its members to go to school past the eighth grade.”
“You’re not saying anything I haven’t thought myself,” he told her.
“Then why haven’t you done something about it?”
“Like what? Kidnap her and bring her back here?” He didn’t want to admit that that was a plan he’d considered during a brief moment of insanity. “The Amish way may not be what you or I would choose, but you read the same sta
tistics I do. Very few of their members leave, and it’s not because anyone is holding them against their will.”
“So you’re not going to do anything?”
“I am doing something. I’m giving her what she told me she needs—time to make up her own mind.”
Lori sighed in frustration, shoving a strand of hair back from her forehead. “Never mind me. I’m just tired, and it was a shock seeing Faith looking like a peasant out of the nineteenth century.” She glanced back into the car. “I’d better take Matthew home.”
Adam opened the rear door and undid Megan’s seat belt. As he did, she awakened with a start. Confused, she asked, “Where’s Faith?”
“She’s in Harmony, remember?” Adam answered, lifting her into his arms.
She nestled her head against his shoulder. “I wish she’d come home,” she said sleepily.
“Me, too,” Adam told her.
“Then do something,” Lori mouthed to him.
Later, as he listened to Megan talk nonstop about her visit to Faith’s farm, Adam found himself full of envy. His daughter had spent the day with the one woman he wanted so badly that he ached, yet he couldn’t even reach her by phone.
After a restless night of debating whether or not he should take Lori’s suggestion and do something, he decided to go to Harmony and see for himself that she was all right. He didn’t tell Megan or her latest nanny, Delores, where he was going except to say he would be off-site for the day and to call him on his cell phone if he was needed. Then he jumped into the Lexus and headed to the Miller farm.
As he pulled into the driveway, the first thing he saw was the wash hanging from one end of the house to the barn. Men’s pants and shirts, all identical except for their sizes, flapped in the gentle breeze. Then he saw a woman in a black dress bent over the garden, her head covered with a black pleated cap. When she heard the car she glanced over her shoulder and he saw it was Faith.
She recognized the Lexus and rose to her feet, dusting off her hands on her apron. She looked nervous as she came toward him and his heart plummeted. She didn’t want him there. Then a young girl wearing a similar dress appeared at the door, a baby on her hip. Faith said something to her in German and she went back inside.