He’d taken quite a harassing from the other guys for inviting an Englischer to play. Ephraim nodded, feeling like he might get Cara out of this fix yet. “She’s not done anything to deserve handcuffs.”
“She confessed to stealing.”
Her honesty needed better timing.
Cara shook her head. “Only that dress, which I paid for, and a few items I borrowed from you. I swear it. Anything else that’s missing—especially money—wasn’t taken by me. You’ve got to believe me.”
“Nothing was taken that I wasn’t glad to give,” he assured the officer.
“She had cash on her. Nearly a hundred dollars. In tens.”
“I work for Mr. Howard, on Runkles Road. Ask him.”
“You could check her story out and let her go, right?” Ephraim asked. “I think you’ll find that someone else must have stolen whatever money or other stuff is missing from elsewhere.”
The man sighed. “It’s not that simple. I could let her go, but the girl has to come with us. This woman is homeless. We have to file a report and turn the case over to social services.”
A sinking feeling of just how deeply Ephraim was getting involved nagged at him. He couldn’t ask anyone in Dry Lake to let a stranger he couldn’t vouch for stay in their home. If he told them he needed their help to keep her from being arrested, they’d never take her in. Still… he couldn’t ignore her need for help—not and live with himself.
“She can stay at my place until she gets on her feet.”
“Are you saying you’ll take responsibility for the child’s care?”
Ephraim nodded.
Roy hesitated, but then he unlocked the cuffs and released Cara. “Ephraim, I’ll need your information. What’s your address?”
Lori pulled free from the policewoman’s grip and ran to her mother. She jumped into her arms. While Ephraim told Roy what he needed to know, Lori sobbed, clinging to her mother.
“Shh. It’s okay, Lorabean. Everything’s going to be okay.” Cara held her tight, looking pale and shaken while stroking her daughter’s hair.
But Ephraim knew everything wasn’t going to be okay. What would his father’s reaction be? He could only assume he was the one who called the police. His Daed wanted this drunken thief, as he called her, away from their community.
As the police cars pulled away, stress and strength drained from Cara. But even before she took in a breath of relief, suspicion about the man’s reasons for helping crashed in on her. Sure, she’d begged him, but why was he really doing this?
She’d split his lip last night, the evidence of it still clear on his face. Did he intend to pay her back? Whatever his motives, she couldn’t afford to defy the police. That would be a mistake Lori would have to pay for. Weighing her options, she tried to stop trembling.
He turned to face her. “You got things inside?”
His things, actually, and if he wanted them back so badly, she’d give them to him. She nodded, wondering if her legs would actually carry her. With Lori’s arms wrapped firmly around her neck, she walked inside and jerked on the door to the silo. It didn’t open. She tried to set Lori down, but her little girl started screaming, clearly afraid to be released.
Cara held her close, stroking her hair. “Shh. We’re fine now.”
He stepped forward, opened the silo door without any trouble, and grabbed a flashlight, an empty food container, and a blanket. “This it?”
He made no remark about it being his stuff. Everything they owned, including her change of clothes, was stuffed inside the backpack the policeman had left near the barn door. “And the little wagon that’s outside with the backpack.” Her words came out barely audible.
He motioned to the door. She went to the buggy, awkwardly climbing the high step with Lori in her arms. He placed the items in back, including the box of blankets and food, and then he went to the other side and got in. One slap of the reins against the horses back, and they were off.
She’d been in this spot before, needing serious help from a man, only that was long before Lori. Anger churned. She’d been running from Mike then too. If she hadn’t been in a similar predicament—desperate for help—there would have been no marriage and no Lori.
Feeling too many things at once, Cara rode quietly. Lori’s breathing caught and jerked uncontrollably every few seconds. Her tiny hands clung desperately to her mother.
When they came to the street the man lived on, he kept going. She glanced at him, wanting to know his plan, but she kept her mouth shut. He had too much power for her to question him, to chance getting into an argument.
A few minutes later he pulled into a narrow lane. Unease wrapped around her throat. The path seemed to go on forever, with pastures on both sides and no other homes nearby. When his house came into sight, she realized that he’d brought her in a back way.
He pulled into a small barn. After he jumped down, he came around to her side. If climbing in while holding Lori had been difficult, getting out was worse.
“Can I help you?”
Lori clung to her tighter, locking her feet around her.
“No, thank you.”
He backed away. Cara struggled to get out without falling as she toted Lori. Then she waited. Silently he unfastened the horse, hung the leather straps on a peg, opened a gate at the back of the building, and put the horse out to pasture.
“Let’s go in and get you settled.” He led the way to the door and opened it for them.
Still carrying Lori, Cara stepped into his home. The beige walls of the kitchen stood bleak and empty except for a lone clock. A small oak kitchen table looked sturdy and expensive, yet something about it made it seem hundreds of years old. Stacks of thick books sat here and there. Late-afternoon rays stretched across the wooden floors.
Weak and shaky, Cara pried Lori free of her and set her feet on the floor.
The man removed his straw hat and walked toward them. Lori screamed. Cara moved in front of her daughter, shielding her from the unknown.
He leaned in and hung his hat on a peg. “I was just putting my hat up.”
Feeling embarrassed and just as skittish as her daughter, Cara took a step back.
Bewilderment played across his face. “I won’t hurt you. Surely you know that.”
Cara didn’t know that, and she kept Lori behind her.
Looking uncomfortable in his own home, he stepped away from them. “Are you hungry?”
Cara shook her head. “You wrote the note telling us to leave?”
“Ya.”
“That means yes?”
He nodded.
“You bought us bus tickets to New York City. Why there?”
“Isn’t that your home?”
Her heart turned a flip. “Why would you say that?”
He stared at her as if asking a hundred questions. “My name’s Ephraim.”
“Yeah, I heard you tell the policeman.” She shifted Lori. “I’m Cara. This is my daughter, Lori.”
He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing for a moment. “There’s plenty of food in the refrigerator. Clean sheets and towels are in the bathroom closet.” He grabbed a set of matches off the counter. “When the sun goes down, you can light a kerosene lamp if you wish. Since you’ve been staying in a barn, I guess the lack of electricity won’t bother you much. I’d like us to talk, but that can wait until Lori is asleep. Or tomorrow if you’re too tired. In the meantime if you and your daughter can stay out of sight, I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure, I guess so.”
“I just don’t need my family to know about you, not yet.”
She wondered who he was trying to kid. Himself maybe. He wouldn’t want anyone to know she was there. She’d read it in his eyes as the police left. She was trash, and he was an upstanding member of his community.
He drew a deep breath, looking unsure. Not at all like a heartless man. “Lori, do you like books? I’ve got a few children’s books in the storage room.”
Lori looked at
her mom before nodding.
He disappeared into a room and returned within a minute carrying a small stack of books. “They’re quite worn but still just as good as the first time they were read. Books are funny that way.”
Lori eyed the stack and eased closer to him until he could place them in her hands.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome. Well, I guess that about covers it. I’ll sleep in the shop.” He started toward his hat but then headed for the door instead.
Lori flew toward the door and spread her arms out. “Don’t leave us!”
Looking baffled, he stared at the little girl. “You’re safe here.” He glanced to Cara as if it was his turn to beg for help. “She’s both afraid of me and afraid of me leaving?”
Cara shrugged, unwilling to try to voice all that her daughter must be feeling. Besides, it should be obvious that her emotions were irrational right now.
He eased into a chair, rubbing his forehead. “I can’t stay. I could be excommunicated.”
“What?” Cara asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing. I shouldn’t have said my thoughts out loud.”
Lori moved to her mothers side. “Please, mister. Those policemen could come again.”
Cara knew it wouldn’t do either of them any good to try to explain why the police wouldn’t return, not to a panicked kid and not when social services would show up again soon.
He sighed. “Okay. I won’t go anywhere for now. Maybe Lori won’t feel so strongly about me leaving after she has time to calm down, because I have some chores I need to do a little later. But for now I’ll just be in the storage room. It’s right there.” He pointed to a door.
Clinging to Cara’s dress, Lori nodded. Ephraim left the room and shut the door. Cara melted onto the floor and snuggled with her daughter. What an embarrassing, unpredictable mess.
Disbelief rippled through Ada as she stared into her son’s eyes. “You want time away? From what? Why?”
Mahlon shrugged before turning his attention to the bowl of potato soup in front of him.
Ada passed him a glass of milk. “You’ve talked to Deborah about this?”
“Not yet.”
“We only have thirty-three days before we have to be out of here.”
“That’s more than a month, and it’ll only take one day to move.”
“Move to where? You haven’t even decided on a place. We need solid plans. Not procrastination.”
He looked up at her. “I think the Eversons’ home is best. But they’re asking too much for rent, so I’m waiting them out.”
“We don’t need a place nearly that big or expensive.”
“It’ll give all of us elbow room.”
Elbow room? She’d worried for quite a while that he considered her a burden. It didn’t matter that he’d been the one who hadn’t wanted her to remarry because he hated watching all the adjustments Deborah had to make when her Daed remarried. Ada had thought she was doing the right thing when she agreed to remain single, so she had come up with a plan to support them. But to make her plan work, she needed to move to Hope Crossing. She could have made a decent living off her pies and cakes if they’d moved there. But he’d been stressed over that plan. To make up for his strong opinions, he’d come up with plans of his own. Maybe she’d been wrong to go along with them so easily. When she lost her husband, all she could see and feel was her love for the one child they’d had together. During all the years since his Daed had died, maybe what Mahlon thought he needed and what he really needed were two different things.
Regardless of all that, nowadays he seemed frustrated that she needed his financial support. She hated to even think it, but maybe he’d be happier if she found a rental she could afford on her own. If it was in a touristy spot, she could sell her baked goods to local restaurants. He and Deborah could live alone.
“Why do you have to get away now?”
“Because it’s now or never.” He pushed the bowl back and stared at the table. “You know it is, Mamm.” He gazed at her through those earnest hazel eyes. “I’m twenty-three, and I’ve worked full-time for nine years. Nine years, Mamm—eight of them for Ephraim. Come November I’ll be married, and by next fall you’ll have your first grandchild. And probably one every couple of years after that until I can no longer remember being young. I just need a few days away on my own. Is that so wrong?”
“Are you… unsure about getting married?”
He scoffed. “The only thing I know for sure in this whole stinking mess of life is that Deborah Mast means everything to me.” Taking his bowl with him, he stood and went to the sink. “Little else makes any sense. Things I don’t want to think about wake me at night. In the space between asleep and awake, I hear whispers about wars and homeland security, and I see the Twin Towers falling all around me again. When I’m asleep, every object in my hand turns into a weapon of some sort. And when I wake, I’m filled with a desire for… vengeance, I think.”
Unable to bear the grief he’d just heaped on her, she sat. And in ways others wouldn’t see, she wasn’t sure when she’d ever get up again. “But a few years back you said the strength and number of the dreams had faded into nearly nothing.”
“I know, Mamm. But they started back.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. But I think I can make peace between me and God if I have some time by myself.”
She studied him, hoping words of help and comfort would come to her.
He turned his half-empty glass of milk round and round. “Eric’s home for a while.”
The pieces began to fit, and she had a few concerns as to what the image would be when the puzzle was complete. “Maybe the dreams returning has to do with your renewed friendship with him. I’m sure he came home with war stories.”
“He came home to bury a mutual friend.”
“Who?”
“Stewart Fielding.”
Her heart ached with things she couldn’t say. “He’s one of the boys you and Eric used to hang out with, one that wrote you letters regularly from Iraq.”
“Ya.”
“Did you go to his funeral?”
He nodded.
“Does Deborah know you went?”
“No.”
They’d been down this road many times before. He wanted to follow the Amish way of life, but then he mingled with friends who pulled him in the opposite direction. Ada knew Amish folk who had Englischer friends and it wasn’t an issue, but the way Mahlon’s friends lived challenged the core beliefs of the Amish. That had to stir conflict in her sensitive son.
“Mahlon, I think seeds were scattered over you without your permission, and others you’ve planted without realizing it. But you have to know when to pull away from certain friends before—”
“Mamm, please. Just back off. I’ll find us a new place. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep the bills paid. Just trust me and help Deborah to do the same. I don’t want her getting hurt. Not ever.”
The sounds of a horse and buggy caused Ada to look out the window. “I saw Deborah this morning.”
Concern etched across his face. “When you were looking for me?”
“Ya. I didn’t tell her you went out last night and never came home, but she’s bound to be wondering.” Seeing Deborah driving the buggy down the road toward their house, Ada pointed out the window.
Mahlon glanced. “She’ll think I was with Eric, which I wasn’t. I was just walking, alone. Must have gone eight to ten miles. It helped, but not enough. I kept thinking someone I knew would see me, and Deborah would be embarrassed by my odd behavior. I need a couple of days someplace where no one knows me. Where no one expects work or help or answers. Can you understand that?”
Hoping he knew what he was doing, she hugged him. “Ya, a little.”
“Denki, Mamm. I’ll go for a ride with Deborah and talk to her.” Ada watched as her son left the house and climbed into the carriage next to his betrothed. I
f anyone had the power to help Mahlon navigate the muddy rivers within him, Deborah Mast did.
It pained her to watch him struggle. If he could just let go of trying to make life fit inside his understanding, his hands would be free to grasp the richness around him. She shouldn’t worry. She knew that.
Maybe all he needed was a week to think things through and for her to find a home of her own. But she couldn’t do that on the meager amount of money she could make inside Dry Lake. She’d have to move elsewhere if she hoped to make a living.
Deborah passed the reins to Mahlon when he climbed into the rig beside her. He guided the horse onto the road before shifting the reins into one hand.
“How’s your Daed?”
“Adjusting to new medicines and feeling decent.”
“Good.” A slight smile radiated from his lips, and his hazel eyes bore into her as he patted the seat beside him. When she slid closer, he put his arm around her shoulder. They rode in silence, but the warmth of who he was filled her. Most of their evenings started out quiet unless she did all the talking, but soon enough he’d open up. And when he did, they grew even closer.
Finally he cleared his throat. “Mamm said she came by this morning.”
“Ya. Looking for you, I think.”
“I went out last night but not with Eric.”
All night?”
He nodded. “It was foggy and quiet, so I walked until the sun began to rise. I found a few answers, a bit of peace, but… mostly it seemed to only confuse things.”
“I don’t understand, Mahlon. I try. You know I do.”
He fidgeted with the reins. “Remember when I went away for nearly a week about four years ago?”
“Ya.”
It’d been one of their secrets. Ephraim had a week-long job out of town. So Mahlon told his mother he was going with Ephraim, and he told Ephraim he needed to stay at home with his mother. No one but Deborah knew the truth.
“I came back with my mind clear and all sorts of things worked out, ya?”
She shifted, staring at him. “You’re going away again?”
“Just for a few days. I need a little time. That’s all.”
The Hope of Refuge Page 10