by Nancy Mehl
I watched as the girl left her father’s office. “I’m sorry, Pastor, but I noticed you said something about Ruth going to a clinic. Is she okay?”
His smile widened. “Yes, thank you for your concern. She is helping out at our veterinary clinic. Ruth loves animals, and her work there is very important to her.”
“How nice that she does something she enjoys.”
“Yes, it is.” He came around and took a seat in the chair next to me. “Now, let’s talk about your grandmother. I hope I can be of help to you. As I told you on the phone, Clara didn’t live in Sanctuary as an adult, but her sister, Miriam, was a resident all of her life. I knew her about as well as a pastor can know one of his church members. She was a sweet lady who loved the Lord and enjoyed helping people. A wonderful cook, she was always available to new mothers and the ill in our congregation. I also knew your grandmother, Clara. She visited Miriam frequently before she passed away.” His forehead wrinkled in thought. “The third sister, Martha, died when she was young, I believe.”
“Yes, Martha passed away when she was in her thirties.” Thanks to online ancestry sites, at least I had some facts about my pretend family.
“To be honest, I was surprised by your call. Miriam never mentioned that her sister had a daughter. I would’ve thought she’d want to be involved in her great-niece’s life.”
I nodded. “Well, back in those days, and especially in the church, having a child out of wedlock was something a woman would probably keep to herself.”
“Yes, you may be right.” He shrugged. “Over the years I have found that many people have secrets. Some they never share.”
“I suppose that’s true. Thankfully, after my mother discovered she was adopted, she decided to search for her birth mother. And here I am.”
“Your mother didn’t want to join you on your search?”
“Yes, she did. But she and my father live overseas now, so it really wasn’t possible.” I was pretty comfortable with this cover story. I would have said my mother was dead, but with all the sisters deceased, it felt like there were too many bodies piling up.
He studied me for a moment. Then he nodded slowly. “Well, we can talk more later. I will take you to my friend’s house. Esther Lapp has graciously offered you a room in her home while you are here.”
“That’s very kind.”
He chuckled. “Esther enjoys company. Her children live in other states, so life can be lonely. A young woman lived with her for a while, but she recently married, and Esther is alone again. You will be a very welcome guest.”
“I hope she will allow me to pay her.”
Pastor Troyer shook his head. “She will not. Spending time with you is all the payment Esther needs. And since she knew Miriam and Clara better than anyone, she will be the best source for answers to your questions. I hope by the time you leave us, you will have the information you’re seeking. Now, allow me to show you the way to Esther’s house. It is almost time for me to go home, and I live very close to her. If you could drive us, I can just walk from her house. This way my wife will not have to come for me.”
He stood up and walked to the door, and I followed him out. My journey in Sanctuary was beginning. When I’d first decided to track down Terrance Chase, I’d thought I’d be excited at this moment. I was going undercover, just like a real crime reporter. But instead of anticipation, I felt apprehension. Why did I have to revisit my nightmares to achieve my dreams?
Chapter
Three
Pastor Troyer walked around to the passenger-side door of my car and got in. Back in Kingdom, some of the residents refused to ride in cars. It seemed that things were a little more relaxed here in Sanctuary. Even though I’d turned my back on my Mennonite roots, I had to admit I sometimes missed the quiet of a small town. Sometimes the noisiness of the city got on my nerves.
When I started the car, my affirmations CD began to play. After I turned the car around and started back toward town, I reached over and switched it off.
“Sorry,” I said.
Pastor Troyer looked over at me. “You find these statements helpful?”
Sure that New Age affirmations weren’t something the Mennonite pastor agreed with, I shrugged. “I’m not sure. A friend gave me the CD. It seems to help her.”
He looked away. “The Bible is full of positive proclamations. Many times I remind myself that I am the righteousness of God through Christ Jesus. That I can do all things through Him. That I am His beloved and that no man can snatch me out of His hand. That nothing can separate me from His love.”
“Wow. That’s surprising coming from a Mennonite pastor. I thought you believed it was a sin to point to yourself. That everything must point to God.”
After telling me to take a right turn, the pastor chuckled. “When I say who I am through Christ, am I not pointing to Him? It is easy to believe that God is too great to care about a worm like me. It is harder to believe that the Master of the Universe is personally interested in my life. That He loves me so much the very hairs on my head are numbered. Don’t you agree?”
When I turned to look at him, the car swerved, and I had to refocus on the road. A family in a buggy looked over at us, concern written on their faces.
“Sorry,” I said. “I guess I need to pay more attention to my driving.” Although I didn’t answer his question, it left me feeling a little flustered. Our pastor in Kingdom had said the same thing, but I’d forgotten about it until now. My father and mother hadn’t believed in a merciful God. To them, righteousness was something you had to earn. Something I could never achieve. After leaving Kingdom, I’d decided to reject the concept of God completely, and for the first time in my life, I’d finally felt free. Now I only believed in one thing: me.
The pastor didn’t pursue an answer to his inquiry; he just directed me down another street until we pulled up in front of a large white house. An elderly Mennonite woman sat in a rocking chair on the big front porch. Wearing a long green dress and a black prayer covering over her gray hair, she looked exactly the way I’d expected. Except for the joyous smile on her face. Some of the older women in Kingdom looked like they’d just eaten lemons, including my mother. Of course, not everyone had been that way. In fact, the faces of several women I’d known popped into my thoughts. Funny that I’d forgotten about some of the good people from my old hometown.
I parked the car, and the pastor and I got out.
“Good afternoon, Esther,” Pastor Troyer called out. “I am delivering your new houseguest.”
Esther stood up from her rocking chair and hobbled over to the edge of the porch. “I am so glad you have come to stay, Emily. Believe it or not, the young woman who just left was named Emily, as well.”
I smiled at the friendly woman. “I really appreciate your graciousness. I hope I won’t be a poor substitute for your previous guest.”
Esther waved her hand at me as I pulled my suitcases out of the trunk. Pastor Troyer picked up two of them and headed toward the house.
“Leave the rest, Emily,” he said. “I will fetch them.”
I shook my head. “Thank you, but I can easily get these.” I pulled out my laptop and a large, soft tote bag. I walked up to the porch and stood in front of Esther. “Lead the way.”
She patted my arm. “I wish I could help you with your bags, but alas, I am afraid my strength is not what it once was.” She pulled open the screen door, and I stepped into a large living room with comfortable furniture. I was thrilled to see there was electricity. Although I knew how to live without it, that wasn’t something I ever wanted to endure again.
“Your room is upstairs. It is the last room on the left. Please go ahead of me. I am afraid it takes me some time to climb the stairs.”
Pastor Troyer waited for me to go first, so I hiked up the narrow stairs while he followed behind me. When I reached the top, I headed toward the end of the hall and the room Esther had indicated. I heard the elderly woman’s voice behind us.
&
nbsp; “You will stay in my daughter Rebecca’s room. The first room you passed belonged to my son, Benjamin. I keep it ready for a friend from St. Louis who comes to visit me from time to time. Maybe you will meet Zac while you are here.”
“Esther should run a bed and breakfast.” Pastor Troyer’s voice was full of humor. “She is a wonderful hostess and generously shares her gift of hospitality.”
I stopped in front of the door Esther had indicated and waited for her to catch up. She came up the hall, a little winded by the climb.
“Oh, pshaw.” She grinned at the pastor. “The gift is not one I give. It is one I receive. I love company.” She walked up next to me. “We have so much to talk about. I hope I will be able to share something with you about your family.”
“I hear you’re the expert,” I replied. “I look forward to learning more about my grandmother. It seems my mother’s birth was kept a secret since having a baby out of wedlock was considered shameful.”
Esther, who was several inches shorter than I, peered up at me. “Your great-aunt was not a judgmental woman. And her sister did not seem like someone who would turn her back on family. I must confess I am having a difficult time merging your story with the women I knew.”
I just nodded at her. Was she saying she didn’t believe me? Had I picked the wrong family to borrow for my purposes? I’d assumed that Mennonite values would make my story believable.
Esther finally quit studying me and opened the door to my room. It wasn’t what I’d expected. Rather than being stark and plain, it was lovely. The carved mahogany bed was covered with a beautiful maroon quilt, and a side table held an antique glass lamp that reminded me of a Tiffany lamp I’d seen in an antique store. A matching dresser sat against one wall, and a couch covered with maroon brocade had been placed along the other wall.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a couch like this,” I commented, walking over to the odd-shaped piece of furniture.
“It is a fainting couch,” Esther said. “Years ago, women were seen to be delicate creatures who needed a place to rest from the trials of life. But I was told that their fainting may have had more to do with the tight corsets they wore than weakness of spirit or flesh.” She put her hand over her mouth and giggled, almost sounding like a child.
I laughed, too. “I don’t think I’ll be doing any fainting, and I certainly don’t wear a corset, but it looks like the perfect place to relax and read a book.”
Esther nodded. “There are many books in Benjamin’s room. If you find yourself short of reading material, please help yourself to his library.” She walked over and pulled open the drawer in the side table. “And here is a Bible you are welcome to read.”
“Th—thank you,” I replied, although I had no intention of taking her up on her offer.
“Well, I must get home,” Pastor Troyer said. “Again, welcome to Sanctuary, Emily. Please call me any time. I will do whatever I can to help you. There are some written records in the church basement you might be interested in. Down through the decades, the church has tried to keep track of the families and individuals who have lived in Sanctuary. They started out as property records, but many years ago, a church member decided to use them as a way to preserve our history. We usually do not open them to anyone outside of the town, but since you are related to one of our residents, we will let you go through them, if you wish. I would just request that you keep your research limited to Miriam’s family. Even though we do not add any personal information to our notes, we still do not wish to invade anyone’s privacy. Let me know if you would like to avail yourself of these records, and I will unlock the room for you.”
“I may take you up on that,” I told him. “Thank you so much for all your help.” I held out my hand.
“You are very welcome.” The pastor shook my hand and left the room. In his place, a gray-striped cat sauntered in.
“This is Clyde,” Esther said. “I have four cats. I hope you are not allergic?”
I shook my head. “I love cats.”
As if he understood me, Clyde jumped up on the bed and began sniffing one of my suitcases.
“You mind your own business, young man.” Esther gently pushed him away. “Get down from there.”
“Please, Esther, unless you don’t want him in here, let him stay.”
The old woman smiled at me. “Again you remind me of the other Emily. She loved my cats, too. You might find them a bit clingy. They are missing their friend.” She pointed at Clyde and shook her finger. “You must be careful with this silly feline. Lately, he has developed a tendency to get tangled up in my feet. I have tried to break him of this habit, but so far, he has been very rebellious and unwilling to change.”
A loud meow from the hallway signaled another feline visitor. This gray-striped cat was much larger than Clyde and had white on his face. I noticed a slight limp.
“This is Sam. He has a little touch of arthritis. Although he would love to jump up on your bed, he cannot safely do it. It is too high.”
As if he understood his owner’s words, Sam walked over to the fainting couch and scooted underneath it. Then he curled up on the floor.
“I noticed the bed is higher than anything I’ve seen before.”
Esther pointed to a small stepstool next to the dresser. “Using this stool will help you to safely get up and down from the bed. Beds were made higher many years ago. I should probably replace this one, but it was Rebecca’s, and I am . . . sentimental.”
“Thank you. The stool may save me some bumps and bruises.”
“This is true.” She turned to leave the room. “Why don’t you unpack and rest a bit? Dinner will be at six o’clock.”
“Oh, Esther. I don’t expect you to cook for me. I noticed a couple of restaurants when I drove into town. I’ll just get something there.”
“I think you will enjoy them, but this first night, why don’t you eat with me? I would like to get to know you better.”
“If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble, that would be lovely. Thank you. I’ll be down by six.”
“Good. I look forward to it.” A smile made the corners of her eyes crinkle. “I do not like cooking for myself. When I prepare food for someone else, it gives me an excuse to eat the foods I really like.”
“I’m sure whatever you make will be delicious.”
“I hope so, dear.” She sighed. “Well, I had better get downstairs and leave you to unpack. Please, if you need anything, just let me know.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Esther.” I was grateful to her, but right now I wanted to be alone. Memories of home were coming from every direction, and I needed time to regroup.
She nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her.
I sat down on the fainting couch and tried to quell the butterflies doing jumping jacks in my stomach. I was happy to have made it to Sanctuary so I could look for Chase, but why did it have to be a Mennonite town? Why did he decide to hide out here? I guess it could have been worse. He could have ended up in Kingdom. The thought made me laugh lightly to myself.
Thinking about my hometown caused another face to float into my mind. One I’d been pushing away for a long time. Jonathon Wiese. The only man I’d ever loved. A man who could never be mine. His incredible blue eyes seemed to be looking at me from somewhere far away, but I could still see him clearly. The longish dark hair he was always pushing out of his eyes, the curve of his cheek, his strong arms. I also remembered the kindness that had caused him to reach out to an awkward and unloved teenager, trying to let her know that she was important to God—and to him. But the truth was, I’d been nothing more than a disturbed child who’d earned his pity. Despite his compassion, I’d betrayed him—and everyone in Kingdom. The pain of remembrance was too deep. I shoved it back into the dark place where I kept the hurt I couldn’t face.
Once again, I began to recite my affirmations, trying to find an inner peace. For some reason, it wasn’t working, so I switched my attention to t
he present, forcing myself to concentrate on what really mattered now—finding Terrance Chase. I’d come here without a real plan except to question residents about single men who had moved here after 2008—and compare my picture of Chase with anyone who could possibly be my target. I realized that my passion was stronger than my strategy, but now that I was here, Pastor Troyer had presented another possibility. Although I wasn’t sure how helpful the information in the town’s records would be, at least they gave me a place to start. If there were actual dates, they would help me build a list of men who moved here after the robbery. Being able to narrow it down would help me find Chase faster. With the records and the picture together, I might make some progress.
Even though I felt encouraged, the more I thought about the task in front of me, the more I began to wonder if this was a fool’s errand. I could understand Chase hiding out for a while in a small town, but with the money from the robbery, why would he stay? He couldn’t spend very much of his ill-gotten gains in Sanctuary. It was possible he’d left town years ago. If so, my only hope would be to track him from here. Try to figure out where he went after leaving Sanctuary. Hopefully, the records not only recorded new residents but also made note of the people who’d moved away. If they didn’t, my job would be a little tougher.
I glanced at the clock on a small table near the door. Five-twenty. I only had forty minutes until dinner. From here on out, I’d have to stay in character. I was Emily McClure—illegitimate granddaughter of Clara Byler. Would it be difficult to concentrate on one false story while trying to investigate something entirely different? I’d picked Clara because she didn’t actually live in Sanctuary as an adult. I’d figured it would be easier to fool people with someone not so connected to the town, but after meeting Esther, I was a little nervous. Would I really be able to pull this off?
I was just starting to unpack when my phone rang. I grabbed it out of my purse and looked at the number. Kansas. When I answered, I received a recording that an inmate from El Dorado was trying to reach me. I accepted the call. After a few seconds, I heard Tom’s voice on the line.