At Home in Pleasant Valley

by Marta Perry

  “Nobody talked me into it.” She stared at Leah, her face set. “I wanted to. It’s not so bad. I’ll bet the boys drove cars lots of times.”

  “If they did, at least they never had an accident. That buggy—” Her throat tightened. “Anna, don’t you see how dangerous it was? If you’d hit the buggy full on, that family would be having a funeral right now. You of all people should know what to watch out for.”

  Anna’s lips trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t mean to drive too fast. The car just went so easy when I touched the pedal. All of a sudden I saw the reflector on the buggy, coming up so fast. I swerved to avoid it, Leah. I did.”

  In that instant she was Leah’s baby sister again. Leah bent over the bed, putting her arms around Anna in a fierce hug. “I know. I know you’re sorry for what you did.”

  For an instant Anna clung to her. Then she stiffened and pulled away.

  “Well—I’m sorry they got hurt. But I bet lots of people have accidents when they’re learning to drive.”

  In other words, she wasn’t sorry about driving the car. Leah grasped the bed railing. “You’re not lots of people, Anna. You’re Amish. We don’t drive cars.”

  Anna didn’t respond. She averted her face, staring out the window.

  The closeness Leah had felt with her sister disappeared as quickly as leaves blown by the wind. With her face set and averted, in her print hospital gown, Anna looked like a stranger.

  Leah should talk to her. Should try to impress on her how wrong she’d been, how much trouble she might be in.

  She looked at the sister she no longer seemed to know. Would anything she said reach her? Or was it too late?

  • • •

  With Anna taking refuge in sleep again, Leah headed for the elevator. Maybe a cup of hot coffee and a few minutes out of the hospital room would ease some of the tension.

  She rounded the corner and came to a stop. John Kile stepped off the elevator. He carried a tissue-wrapped bunch of flowers in one hand.

  “I know.” He smiled with a touch of regret. “You’re going to say that it’s not a good idea for me to visit Anna.”

  “No. I was just going to say that I’m surprised to see you here. But it is kind of you.” Her throat choked with tears. What was wrong with her that she allowed simple gestures of kindness to affect her so? “I’m sorry—” The rest of the words wouldn’t come out, not without tears, in any event.

  John grasped her elbow and piloted her through the nearest door. It was the same meditation room where Daniel had brought her for refuge. John took her to the nearest bench. The same bench.

  He sat down next to her, laying the flowers aside and taking both her hands in his. “Don’t take it so hard. Please, Leah. I know Anna is your baby sister, but she’s not your responsibility.”

  For a moment she just took comfort from the gentleness of his touch and the caring that was obvious in his voice. Then the words penetrated, and she shook her head.

  “That’s what makes her my responsibility, no matter how old she is.” Her voice might be wavering a little, but she was sure. She looked at Johnny, the tears wet on her cheeks. “Don’t you know that?”

  He blinked. “I didn’t mean— Well, of course you love her and want to take care of her. But Anna’s eighteen now. You have to let her make her own choices.”

  Part of what he said was right. But part of it was wrong. Anna was and would always be her baby sister, and she could never stop trying to protect her and take care of her. That was what siblings did.

  If she said that to him, it would be the same as telling him that he’d let his sister down, and she couldn’t do that, not when he and Rachel were just beginning to restore their relationship.

  He seemed to take her silence for agreement. “You’ll see. She’ll come out of this a stronger, better person.”

  Anna needed to come out of it a humbled, repentant person, but Johnny had gone far from that Amish viewpoint, it seemed.

  He stroked her hands gently. “Leah, I didn’t really come here because of Anna. You must know that. I came because of you.”

  “Because you’re my friend.”

  “Because I have feelings for you.” His grip tightened, and he leaned toward her, face intent. “Maybe the timing’s bad, but I can’t hold this back any longer. I still care about you. I knew that the minute I saw you again. We were always meant to be together. You know that, don’t you?”

  She could only stare at him, her mind spinning hopelessly out of control.

  “You feel the same way, I know you do.” He sounded exactly like the young, impetuous Johnny of ten years ago. “I was going to give it more time, but I can’t. Dr. Brandenmyer has offered me a two-year contract, and I have to give him an answer. I know you wouldn’t want to stay here, but we can go away together. We can get married, you can go to school, we can travel—we can do all the things you’ve always just dreamed about.”

  The spinning stopped. Certainty pooled in her heart and mind. Somehow, in these past difficult days, she’d come to know where she belonged. She knew the place to which God had called her.

  Maybe Johnny understood before she even spoke, because the eagerness faded from his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she said gently. “I’m sorry.”

  Anger flashed in his face. “You’re still afraid.”

  How could she explain it so that he would understand? It was so clear to her now.

  “I’m not afraid. I’m just sure.”

  “Is there someone else? Is that why?” He drew his hands away.

  Sorrow was a weight on her heart. There might have been, but Daniel had made that impossible.

  “No. At least, not the way you mean.” Words weren’t enough for this, but they were all she had. “You told me that I wasn’t doing enough for the children I teach, but you’re wrong. I’m not teaching them just by the subjects they learn. I’m teaching them by my life and my actions.”

  “You can’t live your life for other people’s kids. You deserve more.”

  “There is nothing more than this.” She shook her head. “I am being a part of the community where no single piece is more important than any other. What anyone does affects everyone, especially the children.”

  He sat with his face averted, like Anna had.

  “Johnny, I’m not blaming you for the choice you made.” She wanted to comfort him, as she would one of the children. “I just know that if I left, ripples would spread out from that action, affecting so many lives. You were right, in a way. I suppose at some level I was thinking about what the English world would be like, the way a child wonders what it would be like to be a bird. But I couldn’t leave. I would be lost if I did.”

  “I’d take care of you.” But there was no confidence in his words.

  “I know you’d try.” She took a breath, feeling the peace that settled into her. “I’m sorry I’ve never been able to give you what you want. Ten years ago I refused to go with you out of fear. But now—now the answer is the same, but the reason is different. I can’t go, because I know where I belong. It’s here.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Leah would never have imagined that she’d be dreading seeing her baby sister. But as she walked down the hospital corridor the next day, she realized that dread was exactly the right word for what she felt.

  She’d spent the night praying for Anna and praying for guidance. Her newfound peace about who she was and what God intended for her life didn’t seem to extend to her relationship with the sister she loved.

  Why, Father? Why can’t I reach her? Why can’t I show her what is right?

  To that, there didn’t seem to be an answer.

  Leah pushed the door to Anna’s room open. She froze, fingers gripping the edge of the door. The room was empty, the bed stripped, the cards and flowers Anna had received gon
e.

  She forced herself to cross the room to the small closet. The dress, cape, shoes, and kapp she’d brought yesterday in anticipation of Anna coming home soon were still here. Only Anna was gone.

  The door swished behind her, and she whirled. The smile died on her face when she saw it was one of the nurses, a plump, comfortable, middle-aged woman in blue print scrubs.

  “My sister.” She nearly stammered the words. “Where is she?”

  The woman’s gaze slid away from hers. “She’s gone. She checked herself out of the hospital first thing this morning.”

  “Gone!” Leah’s mind spun dizzyingly. “How can she be gone? Where did she go? We were told that we might be able to take her home tomorrow.”

  “The doctor wanted her to stay another day, but she was very insistent.” Faint sympathy crossed the woman’s face. “Your sister is eighteen. Legally she’s an adult, and she could check herself out.”

  Leah gripped the bottom rail of the bed. “But where did she go?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t give out any information without the patient’s permission.” The nurse looked as if the sorrow was genuine—surely that was pity in her face.

  Leah took a breath, trying to calm herself, trying to frame the words that would convince the woman to tell her where Anna was. “Please—she’s my baby sister. You have to tell me where she is.”

  She shook her head, lips pressed together as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t.

  Please, Lord . . .

  “She was still so weak. How could you just let her walk away?” Leah tried to keep her voice steady, but it wobbled despite her best efforts.

  The nurse glanced behind her at the closed door and then turned back to Leah.

  “We wouldn’t let her walk, of course. I took her out myself in a wheelchair, and her young man brought his car right up to the sidewalk and helped her in. They drove away together.”

  The woman looked at her meaningfully. Leah’s hands clenched. The English boy. Of course. For a moment her mind was blank, and then it came to her, as clearly as if she heard Anna speaking.

  Jarrod, Anna had said. His name is Jarrod Wells.

  “Thank you.” Her eyes filled with tears as she pressed the woman’s hand.

  The nurse gave her a quick hug. “Don’t thank me,” she said. “I didn’t tell you a thing.”

  • • •

  “This is it.” Ben Morgan, who’d come at once when Leah called from the hospital, pulled to a stop in front of a large, elegant home set back from the street in a suburban neighborhood. He patted Leah’s shoulder as she started to slide from the car. “I’ll wait for you. Good luck.”

  She nodded. Murmuring a silent prayer for guidance, she started up the walk.

  She felt—small, she supposed. Out of place. Surely every one of these fancy homes looked in disdain at the sight of a Plain woman disrupting the modern style of their neighborhood.

  She rang the doorbell, half expecting Anna or the boy to come. But when the door opened, she found herself facing a woman who must surely be the boy’s mother, even though her carefully styled blonde hair and flawless makeup made her look too young to be the parent of a boy that age.

  “I am here to see my sister.” There seemed little point in beating about the bush. They both knew why she had come.

  The woman stiffened. “I don’t think she wants to see you. She’s made a choice of her own free will. Why don’t you people just leave her alone?”

  She made it sound as if they were persecuting Anna.

  “Anna is my baby sister. I will not go away without seeing her.” She stepped boldly into the hallway, the woman stepping back as she did.

  She flushed. “You can’t—”

  “It’s all right. I’ll talk to her.” The voice was Anna’s. But the young woman who stood in the archway wasn’t Anna—not the Anna she knew.

  Blue jeans, sneakers, a bright knit top that clung to her body and a dangling necklace that hung between her breasts. Makeup drew attention to her delicate features, and—Leah’s breath caught—her hair. Anna’s hair was cut to her chin in a shining bob that swung when she moved her head.

  “All right,” the woman—Mrs. Wells, she supposed—said doubtfully. “If you’re sure. Go in the sunroom. You’ll be private there.”

  “Thanks.” Anna gestured to Leah. “This way.”

  Wordlessly, Leah followed this new Anna down the hallway. The sunroom had tile floors and glass all around, with plants blooming so profusely that it looked like a greenhouse.

  Anna swung to face her, not offering her a seat. “I’m not going back, so there’s no point to your saying anything.” She flicked her hair with her fingers. “Cut my hair first thing. You like it?”

  “I liked it the way it was.” Leah took a step toward this girl who was and yet wasn’t her beloved sister. “Anna, don’t do this. Come home with me. It’s not too late. Everyone will welcome you—”

  “Everyone will be glad to see the last of me, you mean.”

  “You know that’s not true. We only want you to come home.”

  “And be exactly like everyone else.” Something that might have been hurt flickered in her blue eyes. “I can’t. I don’t want to. Jarrod’s mother says I can stay with them until I figure out what I want to do.”

  It seemed incredible that the boy’s mother would encourage this. Surely she must think that her son was too young to form a lasting attachment.

  “I know you think you love him, but this is only going to bring unhappiness. You’re both so young—”

  “You wouldn’t say that if I were talking about marrying Eli Stoltzfus or Martin Brand.” She shrugged. “Anyway, it’s not like that. They’re just helping me because they think I have a right to make my own decisions.”

  “I will not argue that. But what about the police? The chief said—”

  “That’s taken care of. Mrs. Wells got a lawyer for me. I just plead guilty to driving without a license, and I’ll be put on probation for a few months. See? My friends are taking care of me.”

  “It’s gut of them to help you.” Anna was getting off easy, Leah felt. Because of the Wells family involvement? She didn’t know.

  “It is.” Anna’s face was stony.

  Leah reached out a tentative hand toward her sister. “But we love you. How can you decide to leave us this way? Don’t you love us anymore?”

  For a moment she thought Anna wouldn’t answer. Then her lips trembled a little, and her eyes filled with tears.

  “I love you.” She blinked rapidly. “That’s what makes it so hard. But this is right for me. Really.” She flung out her hands. “Don’t you see? I have to find out what the world is like. I have to see for myself. I can’t just settle down and get married and never know anything else. Can’t you understand that? Sometimes I feel as if I’m going to explode if I don’t get away from here.”

  “I know things have been upset, with Mamm’s health and Mamm and Daadi moving into the daadi haus—”

  “It’s not that.” She shook her head decisively, her hair flaring out and then fluttering against her cheek. “I admit that’s pushed me along, but this has been coming for a long time.” She smiled a little sadly. “You just didn’t notice. Leah, please, try to understand. Try to forgive me for hurting Mamm and Daad. I’m sorry. But I have to go and see what the world is like. I have to.”

  Leah didn’t want to understand. She wanted to take Anna’s hand, the way she had when Anna was little, and lead her back home. But she couldn’t.

  Leah was meant to stay, she knew that now. But it seemed that Anna was equally convinced that it was her time to go.

  “I will miss you. More than you know.”

  Relief flooded Anna’s face. “You understand.”

  “No, not entirely. But I accept that you feel you have t
o go.” She opened her arms to Anna, her heart full of love and pain. “Da Herr sei mit du. The Lord be with you.”

  Anna threw her arms around Leah in a fierce hug. “I love you, Leah.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “Thank you.”

  Leah stroked the silky hair. “Just don’t disappear, the way Johnny did. Don’t forget us.”

  “I won’t.” Anna pressed her cheek against Leah’s.

  Pain ricocheted through her, and she remembered the first time she’d held her baby sister, her heart overflowing with love.

  Please, Father. Please. Bring our Anna back to us one day.

  • • •

  She was almost home already, and she still hadn’t figured out what she was going to say to her parents. Leah reached across to touch Ben’s sleeve, knowing he was unlikely to hear her with his favorite country music blaring from the radio.

  “Just drop me here. I’d like to walk the rest of the way.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “You sure of that?”

  “I have some thinking to do.”

  He pulled up at the edge of Daniel’s pasture. “I’m sorry about this business with Anna. Hope everything works out all right.”

  “I do, too.” Her throat thickened, and she couldn’t say more. But Ben was a good friend to the Amish, and he’d understand.

  She slid out, raising her hand in a wave as he drove away.

  Walking along the road, even in the heat of the summer sun, was better than being cooped up in an automobile. She took her bonnet off and let it dangle from her fingers.

  Tiger lilies had begun to open along the side of the road, their orange blossoms unfurling, and Daniel’s cows surveyed her from the other side of the fence. It was beautiful, and peaceful, and Anna was rejecting it. Rejecting the life she’d always lived in favor of the unknown.

  Mamm and Daadi wouldn’t take her word for Anna’s decision, of course. They’d insist on trying to talk to her themselves, sure that they could make her see sense.

  But Anna wouldn’t change her mind. She was set on this course. One day, if God chose, she might realize that here was where she belonged.