by Beth Wiseman
He held up a finger. “Now, having said that, Charlotte must be given time to grieve. But I would like to see this resolved—one way or the other—before the holidays are here.”
Daniel nodded as he glanced back at Charlotte again, still talking to his mother and Annie.
“Your mudder would also like to see this resolved.” Bishop Miller winked at Daniel.
“Ya, ya . . .” Daniel said under his breath. His mother had been one of the last people to accept Charlotte into her heart, fearful the Englisch woman would snatch her son away and take him into her world. His mother wasn’t aware that Daniel would go with Charlotte wherever God’s path led them, even if that meant leaving the district. He loved her, and his future was with her.
Bishop Miller put a hand on Daniel’s arm. “Please tell Charlotte I am sorry for her loss.”
Daniel watched the bishop walk away. If the man only knew how many times Daniel had tried to talk to Charlotte about making a life together. Too many to count.
Charlotte held her breath as Eve put a hand on her stomach and cringed. Daniel’s mother was eight months pregnant. And in her fifties. “Are you okay?”
Eve nodded. “Ya, ya.” After a couple of moments, a smile filled her face. “This little one is more active than Daniel or Annie ever was.”
Charlotte glanced at Annie, who was scowling.
“You shouldn’t have come,” Annie said to her mother before she turned to Charlotte. “Daniel tried to talk her out of attending the funeral. Too much walking, and she’s been having these pains, which the doctor said were early contractions.” Annie folded her hands in front of her. “But she wanted to pay her respects.”
“Eve, I would have totally understood you not coming.” Charlotte sighed. “And you shouldn’t have ridden in a buggy for sure. I can take you home in Big Red.”
Annie chuckled. “Are you still calling that old truck Big Red? I figured you would have bought a car by now.”
Charlotte shrugged. “I guess I have a soft spot for that old truck.” She’d been so touched when Amos King had given it to her, she couldn’t imagine parting with it. “Anyway, I’m happy to drive you home.” She paused. “Um . . . Hannah and Isaac left without delay, and Lena and Amos didn’t come today. Do you know if everything is all right?”
Daniel’s mother and sister exchanged quick looks before Annie cleared her throat. “Ya, ya. I’m sure everything is fine.” She blew out a big breath. “We have to go. We are so sorry for your loss, Charlotte.”
“Don’t you want me to take you home?” Charlotte called out to Eve as she and Annie started to leave.
“Nee, nee.” Eve waved over her shoulder. “It’s not that far.”
Charlotte didn’t move as her gaze drifted from Eve and Annie Byler to the casket. Three men were waiting, presumably until everyone left, so they could lower Janell into her final resting place. She looked around again. Almost everyone was gone. Daniel waved good-bye to the bishop and headed her way, but he stopped to talk to his mother and sister. Charlotte made her way to the casket, offering a weak smile to the three men.
She pulled a rose from one of the nearby flower arrangements. The Amish didn’t believe in flowers at a funeral, but this wasn’t an Amish funeral and her friends had made sure there was an abundance of flowers for the service.
The three men all stepped away, giving Charlotte some privacy. Her tears threatened to spill again, but more from guilt this time. God, forgive me. I feel relieved.
It was a horrible emotion to have, but when it came to Janell, there would always be more bad than good on which to reflect. Janell’s resurrection back into Charlotte’s life only picked up where she’d left off, chastising and berating Charlotte at every turn.
During her stay in the mental hospital, Janell had called Charlotte every name imaginable. The nurses had tried to make Charlotte feel better by insisting that Janell was mentally ill, in addition to her drug dependency. They were probably telling the truth, but Charlotte tried repeatedly to have a relationship with Janell, despite everything.
Now, as she stood staring at the casket, she finally cried—deep, wracking sobs she couldn’t control. But when she felt a hand on her shoulder, she reached up, laid her hand on Daniel’s, and quieted her cries. Again.
“Good-bye, Janell.” She fought to keep the quaver out of her voice before she faced the man she loved. Charlotte tried to recall if Janell had ever told her that she loved her, and she couldn’t think of one single time.
Charlotte gazed into Daniel’s gray eyes as wispy strands of dark hair danced in a soft breeze around his strong face. “I love you very much.” It was the first time she’d ever said it. She and Daniel had a secret code between them for the past few months. A triple hand squeeze meant “I love you,” but neither one of them had ever said it. For Charlotte, she’d known that it would signify the need to make a decision.
Can I embrace the Amish religion in its entirety to be with Daniel? Something about the finality of Janell’s passing made Charlotte think about how short life was. What if something happened to her tomorrow, or the next day?
Daniel pulled her into his arms. Everyone was gone or getting into their buggies. He kissed her on her forehead. “I’ve been waiting a long time to hear that.”
Charlotte smiled through her tears. “I’ve been waiting a long time to say it.”
“I love you too.” He held her tighter. “But you know that.”
She nodded, finally eased away, and sniffled. Looking over her shoulder, she closed her eyes. Rest in peace . . . Mom.
“I’m ready.” She latched on to Daniel’s hand as they crossed through the cemetery toward Big Red. “I offered to take your mom home in the truck. I don’t think she should be riding in the buggy when she’s so far along.”
“I offered to hire her a driver, but she wouldn’t hear of it.” Daniel shook his head.
They walked in silence for a few moments. In the far distance a man in a dark suit moved toward them. Charlotte thought it might be someone from the funeral home, stopping to offer condolences or to make sure everything went okay.
“Hannah acted funny when I asked her why Amos and Lena weren’t here. And your mom and Annie acted a little weird too.” She stopped and looked at him when his hand tensed around hers. “What’s going on, Daniel?”
“I, uh . . .” He took in a deep breath.
“I knew it. What is everyone not telling me?”
Daniel opened his mouth, then clamped it shut when the man in the suit came into range a few moments later. They both waited until he stopped in front of them.
“Are you Charlotte Dolinsky?” The guy pushed a pair of black sunglasses up on his head. His short, dark hair was neatly parted, and his ebony eyes pierced the space between them. The man had a boyish appearance and distinct dimples, even though Charlotte suspected he was around her age—late twenties. He raised an eyebrow as he waited for Charlotte to answer. She nodded.
He offered the hint of a smile but stilled his expression. “First, let me offer you my sincerest apologies on the death of your mother.”
“Thank you.” She prayed the man wasn’t a bill collector. Charlotte had done a good job of getting her finances in order, but paying for her mother’s funeral, modest as it was, had set her back. Even though Janell was considered indigent and qualified for state assistance, Charlotte didn’t have the heart to concede to a pauper’s burial. “Are you with the funeral home?”
He smiled a little. “No.” He glanced over his shoulder at a black Lexus parked near the curb. “Does the name Andrea Rochelle mean anything to you?”
Charlotte stopped breathing as her heart hammered against her chest. “Who are you?”
The man looked down for a few moments at his shiny black shoes, then lifted his eyes to Charlotte again. “I’m Blake, a friend of Andrea’s.”
Daniel stayed quiet, but he clearly recognized the name, too, as he glanced back and forth between Charlotte and this stranger.
“So . . . um, I just wanted to make sure I had the right person and if you knew who Andrea was.”
Charlotte’s knees were weak, and despite the cool fall temperatures, sweat broke out across her forehead. “Yes. I know who she is.”
Blake looked over his shoulder again, then scratched his forehead and frowned as he turned back to Charlotte. “She felt like she should be here, but I can’t persuade her to get out of the car. She’s nervous about seeing you.”
A vision Charlotte had fought to forget slammed into the forefront of her mind like a derailed train that had jumped the track and was heading right for her. The memories had haunted her for years, and now the product of those recollections was less than a basketball court away.
“Should I . . . ?” She glanced at Daniel, then back at Blake. “Should I go to the car?”
Blake raised a shoulder, then lowered it, his expression somber. “I guess it’s up to you.”
Charlotte looked at Daniel again.
“I think you will regret it if you don’t,” he said softly.
Charlotte took in a deep breath and blew it out in a slow stream.
Two
Andrea chewed on one of her painted fingernails, a lovely shade of pink she’d chosen specifically for today. And now she couldn’t even bring herself to get out of the car. She watched Blake, Charlotte, and an Amish man walking toward her. I’ll meet her, confirm what I believe to be true, then put it all behind me and never see the woman again. Andrea knew enough about her family already.
Charlotte came into view. She was an attractive woman with long brown hair, maybe a shade darker than Andrea’s. She was dressed in a black maxi skirt, a tasteful dark-colored blouse, and her black kitten heels were stylish. It wasn’t what Andrea had expected. Her sister didn’t have any makeup on. It seemed to work for her in a plain sort of way.
She put a hand on the door handle, forced herself to open the car door, then stepped out of the vehicle just as the trio reached her. Leaving her sunglasses on, she tried to smile. “Hello.”
Charlotte covered her mouth with both hands as her eyes filled with tears. Then with no warning, she threw her arms around Andrea and squeezed her in a giant bear hug. Andrea tried to hug her back, but it ended up being more of a pat on the back before she pulled away.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” Charlotte put a hand to her chest and smiled. She glanced over her shoulder where the three men were lowering Janell’s body into the ground. When she faced Andrea again, she was smiling even more. “I know this should be a sad day, but I can’t help but be happy. We have so much to talk about.”
Charlotte lifted up on her toes as she looked at the Amish man. “This is a miracle.” She turned back to Andrea. “I was going to search for you, but I’ve been busy with Janell, a new job, and getting my life back together. And I honestly didn’t know where to start.”
Andrea’s heart thumped wildly in her chest as her bottom lip trembled. “You were going to search for me, but you’ve been busy?”
Charlotte’s smile faded. “Um . . . I didn’t remember you until recently. I only had a faint memory of you after CPS took you away. In one of her vicious rants, Janell confirmed what happened. Trust me, wherever you ended up, you were better off not being with our parents. Ethan and I spent two horrible years in separate foster care homes, and the rest of the time . . . Well, let’s just say we didn’t have a lot of fond memories. I miss him terribly.” She smiled again. “But I’m so happy to meet you, and I have to believe Ethan is smiling from heaven.”
Andrea had never understood why she’d been the only one sent away. And she’d always assumed Charlotte and Ethan had each other to lean on, even if times had been difficult. Either way, too much time had passed with too much rough water under the bridge to seek out a relationship with Charlotte. “Listen, I know you just buried your mother, and—”
“Our mother.”
Andrea took off her sunglasses and peered at the sister she’d never known. Andrea’s sense of abandonment had festered for years. Charlotte’s explanation wasn’t an instant cure-all. “I have parents. Great parents. I came here today for closure. I paid a private investigator to learn about my biological background, mostly so I would have a medical history. And I know enough to be grateful that I was adopted by a kind and loving family. But I’m sorry for your loss.”
Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, then shut it. Any hope of getting to know her sister crawled into the car and slammed the door.
Blake shook his head. “Sorry. I thought maybe if she acknowledged that the woman who gave birth to her had really died, that if she saw you in person . . .” He shrugged. “I thought she’d be more interested in knowing her sister.”
Blake went around the front of the car, gave a quick wave to Charlotte and Daniel, and started to drive away before she had time to think. Her sister was leaving, and despite the woman’s hasty demeanor, Charlotte thrust her hand into her purse and fumbled for a pen. She wrote the license number down on her palm.
“Are you okay?” Daniel pushed a few loose strands of hair away from her face.
“I guess.” She dabbed at her eyes. “She said she came here for closure, and I got a definite sense that she’s not interested in pursuing a relationship. I’m sure it was hard for her to find out that she was the only one not returned to her biological family, but we were just kids. Actually Andrea was a baby.” Charlotte calculated that her sister would be twenty-four. Sniffling, she gazed up at Daniel. “She’s pretty, huh?”
“Not as pretty as you, but ya . . . she’s nice looking.” He reached for Charlotte’s hand and eyed the number written on her palm. “Are you going to try to find her?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know.” She’d been on emotional overload with Janell for months. And she missed Ethan even more today than usual.
Daniel squeezed her hand. “Be hopeful. She chose today to meet you, the day of your mother’s funeral. No matter the situation, Janell is the common thread for you both. Maybe Andrea is still sorting things out in her head, the same way you were for months after you found your mother.”
“Well, I didn’t exactly go looking for Janell. She was squatting in my house—in Ethan’s old house.”
“Let the dust settle, then you might try to talk to Andrea, if you find her from that license plate.”
“Maybe.” Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The phrase had been in her head all day, and she was sure the pastor hadn’t said anything like that during the service.
“Are you hungry?” Daniel started toward Charlotte’s big red pickup truck, and she put her arm through his and leaned her head against his strong arm as they made their way across the cemetery.
“A little.” She was disappointed that Hannah hadn’t invited everyone over for a meal after the service, which was customary, either at Isaac’s and her house or at her parents’ home. Charlotte was even more disappointed that Lena and Amos hadn’t attended the funeral. They’re my real family.
The Kings had embraced Charlotte not long after she had arrived in Lancaster County the first time, when she’d been searching for answers about her brother’s death.
“I’m going to stop by and see Lena and Amos. Something doesn’t feel right, and I have a hunch someone isn’t telling me something.”
Daniel stopped walking and turned to face Charlotte, and pain glowed in his gray eyes.
“Oh no. What is it? What’s wrong?” She took in a deep breath and held it.
“No one wanted to tell you today, but Lena’s cancer is back.”
Charlotte bent at the waist as she crossed her hands over her stomach. “No. No. No.” She recalled all the times Lena had stayed with Charlotte in Houston when she was getting chemotherapy. “They got it all. The chemo. The doctors said she would be okay.” She stood up, sobbing uncontrollably. “What stage?”
Daniel pulled her into h
is arms and stroked her head. “I don’t know. I heard Annie and my mom talking, and they said Lena would be having both her breasts removed.”
“She probably should have done that in the first place, but it’s such a personal choice. I’d never judge her, and I tried hard at the time not to influence her.” Charlotte swiped at her eyes. “Someone should have told me. You should have told me.”
“I was going to. Just not today. I figured you had enough on your plate.”
Daniel climbed in Charlotte’s truck, and it was a quiet ride to his house. Charlotte analyzed everything, and Daniel knew she was trying to sort things out in her mind. About her sister and about Lena. She’d buried the woman who gave birth to her, but Lena and Amos had slipped into the role of parents a long time ago.
Daniel reflected on how far they’d all come. Charlotte had first arrived shrouded in mystery with questions about her brother. Then she ended up moving here. She’d even given up her most prized possession—her dog, Buddy—when she moved to her own place. Amos had taken a liking to the Chihuahua during the time Charlotte had stayed with Lena and him, and Charlotte left the dog with Amos. She’d said at the time that Buddy was better off with Amos and Lena, but that was Charlotte, always putting others’ wants and needs before her own.
But Daniel’s heart was heavy for his own reasons. It wasn’t the right time to ask Charlotte about any future plans, but it took everything he had not to question her.
“Are you okay?” He took off his black felt hat, a dressed-up version of the straw hat he usually wore. He set it in his lap as the old truck rumbled down the road with the windows down, the smells of freshly cut grass, hay, and corn wafting into the truck.