She heard the familiar ring of the bell. Through the glass in the door she saw him heading straight for the office. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened the door. “Hey.”
He frowned at her. “What’s wrong?”
“I saw you coming and I opened the door. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, except that you look white as a sheet.”
Sawyer took her by the elbow and led her into the office. He closed the door behind them and put a clipboard on the desk. She recognized them as signed papers for the furniture delivery.
“I’ll file those as soon as—”
“Don’t worry about the papers.” He squared his body to her. “Talk to me. What happened while I was gone?”
She took a shuddering breath. “I have something to tell you.”
“I’m listening.”
“I . . . I think you should go to New York with your grandmother.”
“What? She was here, wasn’t she?”
Laura nodded. “She was looking for you.”
“Unbelievable.” He turned away from her, clasping both hands behind his neck. “She said she’d give me time.”
“So you were considering going?”
“I was thinking about it. But not seriously. And definitely not anytime soon.”
“But why would you wait?”
He spun around. “The question is, why are you in such a hurry for me to go?”
Sawyer couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You want me to leave?”
She nodded, not looking him in the eye. “It’s for the best.”
“Not for me.” He stepped closer. “Not for us.”
“There isn’t an us.” She moved away. Turned her back to him. “Did you really think there was?”
“Cora put you up to this, didn’t she?”
He saw Laura’s shoulders slump. “She didn’t have to.” When she turned around, he could see the tears in her eyes. “Everything has changed.”
“No, it hasn’t. So what if she showed up? She should have been here six years ago, when I didn’t have anyone. Now I have parents. A family.” He reached for her. “I know it sounds crazy, but I also feel like I have you. Remember when I said I understood you?”
She nodded but remained silent.
“I also know that you understand me.” He cupped her shoulders with his hands, felt her body trembling beneath his touch. “You understand me better than anyone else could.”
She pulled away from him. “I’m goin’ back to Tennessee.
Tomorrow.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. “When did you decide this?”
“I been thinkin’ about it for a while. You were right, I need to let Mark go. I need to get on with my life.” She looked up at him. “Just like you need to get on with yours.”
“I will. I am. This is my life. Here, in Middlefield. Not New York. And definitely not with Cora Easely.”
“She’s your grandmother.”
“She’s a snooty old woman—”
“She’s blood. And she deserves a chance.”
Sawyer reached out. She tried to pull away, but he clasped her hand. “What about us? Don’t we deserve a chance?”
Laura averted her gaze. She let out a long breath. “Look at me,” she whispered.
“I am.” He stepped toward her. Cupped her face with his palm. “I’m looking at you right now. I like what I see.”
She met his eyes. For a fleeting moment he saw his emotions reflected in her gaze. He opened his mouth to say something else, but she pulled away from him again. “I’preciate you sayin’ that.”
“I don’t want you to appreciate it. I want you to believe it.”
“Sawyer, I . . .” She shook her head. “I’m goin’ back home.
Mei parents need me. I was selfish to leave them.” She took another step back. “Cora needs you.”
“Cora doesn’t need anyone. Or anything. She’s got enough money to buy a grandson.”
Did he imagine it, or did Laura flinch?
“She wants you. She lost her daughter, Sawyer. Can you blame her for wantin’ to get to know you? I’m sure there’s a gut reason why she’s shown up now. Don’t you want to find out why?”
“Yeah, but not . . . not at the cost of losing you.”
“Sawyer.” Laura swallowed. “You . . . you never had me.”
She turned and walked away.
“Laura!”
She didn’t answer. He watched as she grabbed her coat and purse.
“Laura, please—”
She disappeared out of the office. He followed her out of the shop, ignoring the stares of his father and uncle. A few flakes of snow floated down. Small ones. Almost insignificant.
The way Laura felt about herself.
He didn’t buy what she was trying to sell him. He knew she cared. Could see it in her eyes, hear it in the cracking of her voice. But her words held a grain of truth. He did need to give his grandmother a chance, despite his anger toward her. And Laura’s walking away made it easier.
That’s it! he thought. She’s denying herself, denying our feelings for each other, so I can discover my past. He stopped at the end of the driveway and let her go. The terror of losing her eased. He understood her, just as he always had. She was doing this for him.
And he would let her. Because while they might be apart for a short time, he wouldn’t let her push him away forever. He would go to New York, listen to what Cora had to say, then go to Tennessee. If Laura thought she could get rid of him this easily, she thought wrong.
There was hope for them after all.
Laura fought the tears as she walked toward the Shetlers’ home. Snow fell on her cheeks, her lips, chilling her skin. But that was nothing compared to the coldness she felt in her heart.
She had walked away. From her job. From the people who had been kind to her. Most importantly, from Sawyer.
For a moment she didn’t think she could do it. The tender way he looked at her when he spoke. The truth that he wasn’t bothered by her scars. The hope that bloomed like fresh clover when he drew near to her.
But she had to do what was best. For both of them. She thought about the check in her purse. Tonight she would say good-bye to Emma and Leona. Then she would pack. By morning she would be ready to leave.
But she wouldn’t catch the bus to Tennessee. She was going somewhere else.
Finally, it was time to finish what she started.
“So you are leaving?”
Sawyer flinched at the tears in his mother’s eyes. They had just finished supper. Cora hadn’t joined them, saying she had another headache. Fine with him. It had taken everything he had to eat the few bites on his plate. Now he and his parents were sitting at the table, each nursing a cup of coffee none of them seemed to want.
He nodded. “But I’ll be back, Mamm.” He looked to his father. “I just need a few days. Maybe a week, tops, to get everything sorted out with Cora.”
His dad nodded. Little emotion shone in his dark brown eyes. “We understand. And we’ll be fine.” He turned to his wife. “Won’t we, Anna?”
She nodded, then jumped up from the chair and went to the stove. “Anyone want coffee?” Her voice was as thick as the dregs in the bottom of the cold percolator. She seemed to have forgotten their mugs were still full.
“Mom.” Sawyer went to his mother and put his hands on her shoulders. She stiffened for a moment, then turned and hugged him.
“I understand why you need to leave.” She wiped her eyes and moved away. “And I’m sorry I’m not making it easier for you.”
“It’s okay. I’m only going for a visit. I’ll be back. I promise.”
She nodded but didn’t look convinced. She turned away and fiddled with the coffeepot. Sawyer returned to the table and sat down.
“I suppose Laura isn’t coming back?” Lukas said.
Sawyer shook his head. “She’s going home to Tennessee.”
Lukas sighe
d. “I thought she’d stay longer.” He shook his head. “She was a gut worker. Learned the business quickly. I liked her. And I would have thought she’d do better than just walking out on the job.”
“Don’t be angry with her. She’s had a rough time of it.”
“So have you.”
“We all have,” he said. He looked at his dad and smiled. “I’m glad you like her. I like her too. And if I have anything to do about it, she’ll be back.”
Both his parents looked at him in surprise. “You’re going to Tennessee?” his father asked.
“As soon as I’m finished in New York.”
He leaned back in the chair and took in a breath. “But before I can do that, I have to commit to something else. When I get back from New York, I want to join the church.”
Lukas didn’t say anything. Sawyer looked over his shoulder at his mother, who was still standing by the stove.
“I thought you’d both be happy.”
“We are.” His dad looked at him. “As long as you’re joining the church for the right reasons.”
“I am. I know this is something you both wanted—”
“It doesn’t matter what we want.”
“It does to me.”
His mother came back to the table and sat down. “Your daed is right. You can’t join the church because you think it’s what we want. Or because you feel it’s the right thing to do.” The sorrow in her eyes had changed to intensity. “Or because you’re in love with a maedel.”
Sawyer looked away. He was in love, but he couldn’t admit it to anyone, not until he could convince Laura of his feelings.
“That’s not the reason I’m joining. I know I belong here. With you. With the Amish.”
“You think that now,” his father said. “But when you geh to New York, you may change your mind.”
“Cora will definitely try to change it for you,” his mother added.
“She can do what she wants, but it won’t work. I’m only agreeing to go with her to find out why my parents lied to me. And why it took her so long to find me. Why she let me . . .” He swallowed.
“Go to foster care?”
He nodded. “You saved me from that.”
“Because we love you. And we love you enough to tell you the truth.” She straightened. “Sawyer, if you join the church—”
“When.”
If you join, you have to do it freely, just as God wants us to “come to Him freely. Being a member of the church isn’t something to take lightly.”
“I’m not.” Sawyer gritted his teeth. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.”
“Have you prayed about it?” his father asked.
Sawyer drew in a breath.
“I see.” His father leaned forward. “Sawyer, this isn’t a matter of thinking. It’s a matter of the heart. Once you join the church, you can’t leave.”
“Not without being shunned.” Once again his mother’s voice wavered.
“You don’t have to worry about that.” He reached for his mother’s hand. Hesitated. Then held out his other hand to his father. After a pause, his dad took it. “I love you both. I love being a part of this family. Of this community. This is where I want to spend the rest of my life. Cora Easley isn’t going to change that.” He squeezed his parents’ hands, then pushed away from the table. “I’m going to tell Cora I’ll leave with her.”
“She doesn’t know?” his mother asked.
“Not yet. I wanted you and Daed to be the first.”
His father stood. “Danki, sohn.”
Sawyer nodded. He started to leave the kitchen but stopped and looked over his shoulder. “I meant what I said.”
His mother nodded. His father remained stoic.
Sawyer could tell neither one of them fully believed him.
CHAPTER 24
Sawyer looked around the spacious first-class cabin. He tapped his foot against the floor of the plane as it drifted farther into the clouds. He yanked down on the window shade.
“Relax.” Cora settled back into the plush leather seat. “I know this is your first time flying, but you’ll be well taken care of here in first class.”
“If we crash, it won’t matter what class we’re in.”
“We’re not going to crash.” She motioned to one of the flight attendants. “Glass of champagne, please. Make that two.”
“We don’t have champagne, ma’am. Would white wine be all right?”
Cora sighed. “I suppose.” She looked at Sawyer. “White or red?”
“I don’t drink.”
“It will help you relax.”
“No, it won’t.” He tapped his foot faster.
“One glass, then.” Cora crossed her legs and placed one hand on her knee. Sawyer noticed the emerald ring glistening in the light of the cabin. He nodded at it. “My grandfather give that to you?”
“This?” She twisted the ring around her finger and shook her head. “No. I bought it myself. Your grandfather had terrible taste in jewelry.”
“Tell me about him.”
Her thin brows lifted as she paused. “In due time. I don’t want to get into the family business.”
“Why not? We have all this time to spend together. Alone.” The plane gave a little jerk and dropped a couple of feet. Sawyer gripped the edge of the seat. In contrast, his grandmother seemed unfazed.
He glanced around the cabin again, trying to keep the claustrophobic feeling at bay. He’d rather be crammed into a buggy than stuck in a plane thousands of feet in the air. At least he could get out of the buggy when he wanted to.
“Ma’am?”
The flight attendant passed a glass of white wine to Cora. She accepted it. Took a sip. Looked at Sawyer.
“You really should try one of these.”
“I said I don’t drink.”
She frowned. “I heard you the first time.” She leaned back against the headrest. “This is a short flight. We’ll land at La Guardia in less than an hour. My driver will meet us at the terminal.” She smiled. “I can’t wait to show you what New York has to offer.”
Sawyer didn’t respond. The cadence of his foot sped up.
Getting through the packed city traffic took longer than the flight from Ohio. Three hours later, Sawyer was standing in the middle of Cora’s penthouse. The place reeked of money, from the lush white carpet to the highly polished antiques. Lukas would be impressed by the craftsmanship.
Paintings hung on the walls, and even Sawyer’s untrained eye could see they were originals, not prints. The only thing that surprised him was the décor. Animal print fabric everywhere, a riot of zebra, cheetah, tiger, leopard skin. He thought it looked tacky.
“Now we can have champagne. Manuela?”
A short, plump Hispanic woman with graying black hair appeared. Sawyer couldn’t believe it. She actually wore a black-and-white maid’s uniform. He thought those went out in the nineteenth century.
Obviously, he had flown out of Cleveland and landed not just in a different city, but in a different world. One he disliked more by the minute. He scratched the back of his neck.
“Si?” Manuela said.
“Champagne, please.” Cora looked at Sawyer. He shook his head. “And sparkling water for my grandson.”
Manuela looked at Sawyer. He saw the surprise in her face. Guess Cora hadn’t told her about him. Then again, Manuela was only the maid. Not an attorney or some other important person. “Plain water will be fine. And I can get it myself.”
“Nonsense. That’s what I pay Manuela for.” Cora gestured to her maid with her hand. “Afterward, please settle Sawyer’s things in the guest room. Then you may attend to mine.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Manuela disappeared.
Cora sat down in one of the chairs. She held out her hand to Sawyer. “Make yourself at home.”
He didn’t think he could ever be at home here. But he sat down anyway, lost in a huge overstuffed chair, and watched as Cora clicked on the fireplace with a
handheld remote control. Manuela appeared with two glasses on a tray—a champagne flute for Cora and a tumbler of ice water for him.
“Thanks,” he said, taking the water.
Manuela smiled and nodded her head. Then she disappeared again.
So Cora had a driver and a maid. No telling how many other servants she employed. But he didn’t wonder too much about that. “Now will you tell me about my family?”
Cora sipped her champagne. He noticed the glass trembled slightly in her hand. She set it down on the coffee table. “Patience, Sawyer. Let’s just enjoy the afternoon before we get caught up in business.”
Sawyer rubbed his neck again. “I don’t appreciate being put off.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.” She turned to him. “You will find out everything, I promise.” She touched her fingertips to her temple. “But at the moment I have a splitting headache.”
“Alcohol will do that.”
Cora frowned. “I’m going to lie down. Feel free to take my driver and have him show you around Manhattan.” She fished inside her purse and pulled out her wallet. “Here is some spending money.”
He looked at the four hundred-dollar bills in her hand. “I’m sure I don’t need that much.”
“Take it. You might want to see a play. Go to a museum.”
“Cut off my right hand. It would be just as enjoyable.”
“No need to be vulgar.” She scowled. “Fine, go to a club, or whatever it is you young people do.”
A tiny spasm of guilt stabbed at him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.” He took the money. “Maybe I’ll get something to eat.”
She brightened. “That’s the spirit.” She rose, taking her champagne glass with her. “Don’t get too full. I’m ordering something extra special for supper.”
“Okay.” He stood as she walked out of the room. Manuela came in seconds afterward.
“Can I get you anything, Mr. Thompson?”
“Call me Sawyer.” He stared at the fire for a moment. A gas fire with fake logs behind a glass. He suddenly longed to smell the smoky scent of real burning wood. But like everything else here, the fire was superficial. He turned to Manuela. “You don’t have to wait on me.”
The Middlefield Family Collection Page 39