The Hope of Refuge

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “Don’t tell me what happened,” his Daed interrupted him. “You weren’t much more than a child. I remember well the trouble she caused. It was only six months after I’d been chosen as a preacher. Her presence caused a rift between your mother and me, but the church leaders agreed that Cara could come here to live. Levina, Malinda’s own grandmother, was willing to raise Cara. But we couldn’t give permission for Malinda to stay. For dozens of reasons all three of us church leaders fervently discussed over and over again, we couldn’t do anything that would make it easy for Malinda to run from her husband as she’d run from the community that loved her. Malinda said little in response to our decision except that she needed some time with Cara to prepare her. They went back to New York, and she never returned. Never even called.”

  “Daed… she died. Had an accident not long after she left here with Cara, and it killed her instantly.”

  His father grew quiet. “If your mother were alive to learn of that… He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I really am.” He drew a jerky breath. “You’ll never know how much I hate this. But the mess isn’t our fault, even though I was the one who called the police. You can’t risk your salvation because Malinda chose the world over God. Tell me her daughter isn’t of the world too.”

  He couldn’t. The weight of what was ahead settled over him. “I know you can’t understand all this. I’m not sure I do. But my mind is made up. I’ll do whatever I can to help her.”

  His father stared at him. “She’s already caused you to turn your back on God and family. Don’t let this woman stay. If you do, all that will be left for you is ruin and regret.”

  “My decision isn’t out of rebellion. It’s the right thing to do, and I’m the right person to do it.”

  Daed placed his hand on Ephraim’s shoulder and gently squeezed it. “You’re wrong. But it seems I won’t be the one to convince you of it.” He stood and walked into the house.

  Ephraim closed his eyes. “Be Me to her.” He mumbled the words, wondering what they really meant.

  As they rode in Robbie’s vehicle toward Ephraim’s place, Cara felt like a voiceless child again. The words she would need jumbled into nonsense inside her brain. Through years of dealing with social workers, she’d always hated the meetings. Those she’d had experience with didn’t see things that were clear and saw all sorts of things that weren’t even there.

  “You known Ephraim long?” Robbie asked.

  Cara folded her arms, wondering if she owed it to Ephraim to answer this man agreeably. “Long enough.”

  He frowned and shrugged. “Where’d you get that dress?”

  “Excuse me?” Cara tried to keep the snarl out of her tone.

  “It’s a Plain dress, but you’re not Amish.”

  “The Howards insisted on extreme modesty, so I wear it when I have to. Can we just ride in silence, please?”

  “I reckon so.” He straightened his ball cap. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

  Who was he kidding? He was on a fishing expedition, hoping to reel in answers. But she wouldn’t tell him so, in case that’d be disrespectful to Ephraim.

  Her mind moved from thought to thought like fire on a wind-swept hill. What if the social worker didn’t accept her living arrangement as stable enough? What if she took Lori because Cara had been forced to steal to feed her daughter? She was making enough money to keep them fed now. But Mrs. Howard would be out of her cast within two weeks. Then what would she do? If Ephraim stopped helping her, she’d be homeless again. How was she going to prove to the social worker that she was capable of providing for Lori when everything hinged on one man’s generosity? Suddenly it felt as if she’d left one corner only to be backed into a different corner. And wouldn’t Mike be pleased to know the misery he’d dished out?

  She tapped her fingertips against her thighs, wishing she could relax. “You don’t happen to have a cigarette, do you?”

  “Sorry. I gave up smoking years ago.”

  Forcing herself to sit still, she tried to focus on something besides Mrs. Forrester. Ephraim had planned on seeing Anna Mary this morning to tell her what was going on. He didn’t seem the least bit nervous, so she figured they must have a really good relationship.

  Robbie barely tapped the brakes before pulling into the shop’s driveway.

  “Did Ephraim say to come in this way?”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t say.”

  “Then drive to the road that leads to Ephraim’s driveway. Let’s not use the shop’s. Please.”

  “You should’ve said something sooner. It’s too late for that now.” He passed the main house and pulled up in front of the shop.

  Wondering if the man came this way on purpose, she mumbled a sarcastic thanks. She hoped Ephraim’s family hadn’t seen them pass, but what was done was done.

  She turned to her daughter. Haunting images of social services taking Lori sent a nervous chill through her. No one was going to take her daughter. Logic told her that social services wasn’t looking for an excuse to separate children from their mothers. Still, her nerves were driving her up the wall. If she had nothing to fear, why were her emotions in overdrive?

  When the engine shut off, she found her voice. “Lori, we’re going across the field and straight to Ephraim’s house. If you see him in the shop, don’t call out to him or do anything that might draw attention.”

  Robbie scowled. “Guess I should’ve taken you the long way around.”

  “I guess so.” They got out of the car, and she took Lori’s hand in hers. Without a word they crossed the parking area and entered Ephraim’s yard.

  They went inside. The quiet beauty of his home whispered hope. Surely one look at this place would tell the social worker that Lori had a good place to stay now. Sunlight lay across the gorgeous hardwood floors, and for the first time she wondered if they were Ephraim’s handiwork. The beige countertops were spotless, and everything except their breakfast dishes was neat and clean.

  A breeze stirred the warm air as Cara set the backpack in a chair. “Remember when the police let us come home with Ephraim?”

  Lori nodded.

  “Well, because we were sleeping in the barn, they needed to turn our names in to someone who looks after little kids. They just want to make sure you’re being taken care of. A woman named Mrs. Forrester is coming to see us today. She’s going to ask questions, and we’re going to be very polite and answer her.”

  “I liked it better in the barn with the pups than in New York. Can I tell her that?”

  Wishing she knew how to instruct Lori to answer, Cara moved to the kitchen sink.

  “Can I tell her about Better Days?”

  Cara licked her lips, trying to calm her nerves. “Sure, but he’s not your dog. You remember that, right?”

  “He’s just as good as being mine as long as you don’t make us leave.”

  Cara turned on the hot water, trying to drown out the accusation in Lori’s tone. To Lori, every move had been her mother’s choice. Cara let Lori feel that way rather than have her believe a bogeyman was after them. She deserved to feel safe—even if she came to resent her mother in the process. That decision stood like every other decision she’d made: choosing the lesser of the two evils.

  Desire washed over Cara. A longing so deep it seemed to have the power to pull her into another world. She ached to call upon a higher being… to ask some unseen life form to smooth things out, not only with social services, but with Ephraim’s family.

  Realizing she still had on an Amish dress, she dried her hands and went into the bedroom to change. It wouldn’t do for the woman to ask any questions about the dress, like where she got it.

  Lori followed her. “Can I go outside?”

  “Not today.” Cara slid into her jeans and sweater. Somehow she had to keep Lori pinned up inside until Ephraim’s family had gone to bed for the night. “You can read a book or draw or play with the toys Ephraim brought you.”

  “Are we hiding again?�
�

  Cara sank onto the bed. “Lori, I need you to stay inside today and be really, really good. Can you do that for Mom?”

  Her daughter studied her. “How come I got butterflies in my belly?”

  Placing her hand on Lori’s head, she smiled. “Because I do, and you can feel it. But we’ll be fine. Ephraim won’t let anything bad happen to us.”

  She hoped that was true, but she hated herself for needing his help. Hated Mike for putting her in this situation. Hated relying on handouts. But she saw no other way. Not right now.

  Someone knocked, making Cara jolt to her feet. She motioned for Lori to hop up, and Cara straightened the bed.

  “Hello?” A girl’s voice rang through the house. “Ephraim?”

  Cara hurried out the bedroom door to find a pretty Amish woman with jet-black hair and blue eyes waiting by the door. The woman’s eyes moved from the top of Cara’s head to her feet and back up again. “What are you doing here?”

  A second woman, the one who’d served Cara and Lori food for free at the auction, stepped forward. “Where’s Ephraim?”

  Unsure what Ephraim did or didn’t want her to say, she stayed silent.

  The blue-eyed one shrugged. “He doesn’t seem to be here.”

  Lori moved in close to her mother. “I saw him in the shop when we came home.”

  “Home?” the blue-eyed one echoed, her face reflecting shock.

  The screen door flopped open, and Ephraim stepped inside. One quick glance around the room, and he turned his focus to the blue-eyed one.

  She offered a sweet smile, searching his face for reassurance before lowering her eyes. This girl was in love. She had to be Anna Mary.

  “Mamm said you came by this morning to see me.”

  “Ya, I wanted us to talk.” He glanced to Cara and Lori.

  The blue-eyed girl kept her focus on Ephraim. “I spent the night with my sister.”

  He looked at Cara. “You doing okay?”

  She forced a nod.

  He gave her a half smile, but his eyes carried a look of stress. “Deborah, Anna Mary, this is Cara Moore and her daughter, Lori. They’re staying here for awhile.”

  Deborah stared at Ephraim, stunned into silence.

  Anna Mary’s eyes grew large. She pointed both index fingers at the floor. “Here?”

  Ephraim’s face became stonelike. “Ya.”

  “She can’t stay here.”

  Lori hid behind her mother as the tension in the room became suffocating. A knock on the screen door made Cara jerk. Ephraim glanced to her, and the undercurrent of understanding that ran between them didn’t need words. The social worker had arrived, and she’d overheard Anna Mary’s proclamation.

  With no hint of nervousness, he turned toward the newcomer. “Mrs. Forrester?”

  “Elaine Forrester, yes.”

  “Come right in.”

  He let the thirty-something woman inside. She didn’t look anything like the social workers Cara remembered. No funny-looking glasses or wild gray hair half pinned up and half falling down, and she wasn’t peering down her nose at them. Holding a blue canvas briefcase in one hand, she looked straight at Ephraim. “You must be Ephraim Mast.” He nodded and shook her hand.

  “I’d like to talk with you too, but first I’m here to see Cara and Lori Moore.”

  Cara’s skin felt like a pincushion as she stepped forward. “I’m Cara, and this is my daughter, Lori.”

  “Nice to meet you. You’re living here now. Is that correct?”

  “Yes,” Ephraim spoke up. “For as long as they need.”

  His bold statement shocked Cara. Anna Mary clenched her jaws and said nothing.

  “Mrs. Forrester, this is my sister Deborah and a friend, Anna Mary.”

  “Nice to meet you.” She walked to the kitchen table and set her briefcase on it. After pulling out a leather clipboard, she tapped it. “I’m just going to look around the place.” She faced Cara. “Then we’ll chat.”

  Feeling almost as vulnerable as if Mike were looming over her, Cara nodded.

  Ephraim motioned Deborah and Anna Mary to the back door. They filed out in silence. He turned to Cara. “You’ll do fine. I’ll be in the hiddy. It’s the area inside the hedges. When she’s ready to talk with me, just call.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ephraim followed Deborah and Anna Mary into his hiddy. He’d barely stepped through the narrow opening in the hedges when they came to a stop and faced him. Obviously Daed or Becca hadn’t said anything to his sister about Cara. Deborah’s eyes begged for answers, looking more worried than he’d seen her since their mother died. He hadn’t expected that, or maybe he hadn’t taken the time to really think about it.

  Instead of looking jealous, Anna Mary seemed confused. “What’s going on?”

  He realized the news, all of it, had to come out within the next few minutes, but sharing it as slowly as possible seemed wise. He was on the brink of being shunned, and Anna Mary should hear the truth from him. “Cara needs help, and I’m giving it to her.”

  “Ephraim, where is she from? Who is she?” Deborah demanded. “How do you know her?”

  “She’s from New York. Came here about a week ago. She was living in Levina’s barn, and I gave her a place to stay.”

  “In the barn?” Anna Mary shuddered. “So where are you staying?”

  “It’s complicated. Her daughter, Lori, was afraid the police would come back for them, so I stayed in the storage room the first night. Then I spent the last two nights in the shop.”

  “The police? Were they after them?”

  “No. Not really. It was mostly a misunderstanding, but they did show up.”

  His sister stared at him. “Why would you do this?”

  “Sometimes doing the right thing doesn’t look right at all.”

  Deborah angled her head, looking worried. “If this gets back to the bishop, you’ll be excommunicated. And I can’t think what this could do to Daed.”

  “Daed knows. I talked to him earlier. Healthwise, he took it well. I’ve made my choice.”

  Anna Mary took a seat on the wooden swing. “Without even talking to me?”

  He squelched his desire to say that he didn’t need her permission to help someone. Besides, there hadn’t been time for a committee meeting, and she wasn’t home when he decided it was time to tell her.

  “You’d do this, knowing you’d be shunned?” Deborah wiped a stray tear. “This Cara person must be someone more to you than a stranger who hid in your barn. Who is she? And who is that Elaine Forrester?”

  Ephraim took a seat next to Anna Mary. He wasn’t willing to talk to them about Cara’s ties to the community until he could first tell Cara that she had relatives here and that her mother had been raised Amish. “Elaine is a social worker. Cara’s a friend from long ago, and she needs help in order to hold on to her daughter.”

  “Has she taken possession of your good sense?” Deborah asked softly.

  Anna Mary sighed heavily. “Don’t make it sound like he’s interested in her. Do you really think he’d allow any girl this much access to his home if he was attracted to her?”

  Thankful Anna Mary was thinking about this reasonably, Ephraim eased his hand over hers. “I’ve looked through ads and made calls, trying to find a place for her. There’s just nothing out this way.”

  “There should be some jobs and apartments in Shippensburg,” Anna Mary offered.

  Like a stick being flailed into a hornets’ nest, her statement struck him, stirring emotions and thoughts that stung. He didn’t want Cara in Shippensburg.

  Stunned at the feelings surging through him, he turned from Anna Mary’s probing eyes and gazed out across the field. Answers to Cara’s past were hiding among the Amish of Dry Lake. And whether anyone in his community liked it or not, Cara deserved to be treated as a treasure once stolen and now returned to them by a power not her own.

  Cara had replied to a hundred questions, including some probing ones about he
r relationship with Ephraim. Now she waited in the living room while Mrs. Forrester and Lori strolled through the home, chatting. She could hear Lori telling the woman about life in New York, being hungry some days since leaving there, and going on a picnic with Ephraim.

  “Lori,” the woman said, “what’s your mommy like when she gets really mad?”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Lori answered, “She gets on her knees in front of me and points her finger right here.” Cara couldn’t see, but she was sure Lori was pointing to her nose. “She calls me Lori Moore, real quicklike. Then she says, ‘You stop.’” Lori mimicked her mother’s voice. “Sometimes she says, ‘Give me a break, kid. When you’re the adult, we’ll do it your way.’”

  “Does she ever hit you?”

  “No. But she hit a man at a bus station once. She wouldn’t tell me why, and I didn’t ask twice.”

  “Has she ever left you with anyone who hit you?”

  They walked into the storage room, and Cara couldn’t make out all their words. It sounded like Mrs. Forrester was going into more personal questions. A few minutes later the two reentered the room. The woman set the leather clipboard beside her and dug into her briefcase. Cara tried to catch a glimpse of her notes.

  Mrs. Forrester tapped the legal pad where Cara’s full name and Social Security number were listed. “If I run your info through the New York database, will I get a hit?”

  Cara swallowed, not sure she was ready for Lori to know “I was in foster care from eight years old until I was fifteen.”

  “Because?”

  “My mother had died, and my dad… left.”

  “But you were only in the system until you turned fifteen? Why?”

  “I ran away.”

  The woman pulled out several pamphlets and set them on the coffee table. “What made you leave New York?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I won’t know that until you talk to me.”