Wanted

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Church services at neighbors’ homes only took place every other Sunday. This Sunday was an off week, so she’d be able to go, if she really wanted to.

  The Brown Dog was in walking distance, if a person didn’t mind the windy roads to get there. Situated in Peebles, it sat on the outskirts of a small town and attracted a variety of people. Mostly teenagers and college students hung out in the booths and old tables. Mixed in with the teenagers were a few young adults eager to take a break. Katie had liked the place from the moment she’d followed James and Laura inside.

  The walls were exposed red brick. Black-and-white photos in silver frames hung scattered all over the walls. The scenes were of places in Europe. Exotic places Katie had never dreamed of seeing.

  Places Katie knew she’d most likely never visit.

  And that had bothered her mightily when she was seventeen. She’d opened her eyes to music and art and fashion and had been inundated with sites and smells and images so completely unfamiliar and strange that she’d been drawn to them.

  Not so her other Amish friends. No, Laura and James had first taken her there one evening, but then had found nothing in the Brown Dog that was worthy of note. After that, Katie had gone by herself.

  Events had spiraled at a breakneck speed, then fell apart, shattered as a finely made glass. The shards had pricked her, too. Some still lay embedded in her skin, pushing to get out, making her wince if she moved suddenly. If she forgot they were there.

  When she’d left Brandon and Holly for the very last time, Katie had felt terribly embarrassed and ashamed. It had been difficult to admit to being a liar for almost two years. And that was what she had been.

  Their questions and confusion had echoed in Katie’s mind long after she’d torn out the front door, grabbed her bicycle, and pedaled as quickly as she dared back to everything that was familiar. Right then and there, she’d promised herself to never stray again from the Amish way of life. To never pretend to be someone she wasn’t.

  An hour later, in the woods bordering the Lundy’s farm, Katie hopped off the bicycle, removed the jeans and sweater, and slipped back on her dress. The air had been chilly—she’d welcomed the sting on her skin. With easy, comforting movements, she’d braided her hair and positioned her kapp. By dipping a cloth into the edge of the river, she’d removed the last sheen of pink lip gloss.

  Finally, she gathered up all her “English” clothes into a pillowcase and tossed them into the river. After valiantly attempting to float, the items sunk.

  Very slowly, she walked the rest of the way home. Head down. Proper. Circumspect. But she couldn’t forget who she’d pretended to be.

  We need to talk.

  Stunned into the present again, Katie stared at the words. The note sounded so desperate and sure. What in the world could Holly want? What could she possibly want to speak to Katie about after all this time?

  More important, what had happened in Holly’s life to prod her to even want to contact Katie? Holly had been so mad when Katie had confessed everything. Katie would’ve thought nothing would ever have encouraged Holly to seek her out. The note sounded urgent and determined, which made Katie feel even more on edge.

  Closing her eyes, Katie remembered so many good times she’d shared with Holly and Brandon. They’d gone to the mall, hung out in front of the TV, all things that Katie knew weren’t wrong. But the web of lies she’d told about her life at home had been.

  She’d made up stories about super-strict parents and baby sisters so Holly and Brandon would stop asking to visit her house. She’d held Brandon’s hand and let him speak to her about proms and dances and college visits—just as if she would one day do all those things.

  With a rush of heat, she remembered the feel of Brandon’s arms around her, the way his lips had felt against her own when they’d kissed for the first time. The way he’d looked at her, like he really liked her. Like she was special.

  Her parents thought they knew most of what she’d done. That was why they’d been so confused about her decision to join the church as quickly as possible. But they didn’t know everything.

  They couldn’t.

  If they did, they’d never look at her the same, and Katie wouldn’t be able to hold her head up in their community. Good people didn’t do the things she’d done. Most important, good Christians didn’t tell lie after lie to people who cared about them.

  Did they?

  Despair filtered through her once again. How could this all have happened, anyway? She’d prayed to God to help her move on with her life. Why hadn’t He listened? Why had He encouraged Holly to contact her?

  Katie wanted to tear up the paper. She wanted to burn it and turn it to ashes. To pretend it had never arrived.

  That is what she would do. It was her only option. She couldn’t visit the Brown Dog now, even if she’d been inclined. She was no longer a dreamy girl who was a tad bit rebellious. She was a responsible woman now. Moreover, there was a chance she was finally about to get to know Jonathan better. That couldn’t be ignored.

  But what would happen if she didn’t go? Most likely nothing. Holly might be angry, but she surely wouldn’t care if she never saw Katie again. Yes, that was the right thing to do. Keep the past in the past, where it belonged. Where she wouldn’t have to think about it.

  Where she could pretend it had never really happened.

  “Katie, there you are, Daughter.”

  With a start, Katie noticed her mother standing in her doorway. She scrambled to a sitting position. “Mamm.”

  “Haven’t you heard me? I’ve been calling for you time and again.”

  “I’m sorry.” After stuffing the letter and envelope under a pillow behind her, Katie stood up. “What do you need?”

  “Your time, of course.” After treating Katie to a particularly pointed glare, her mother turned on her heel and headed downstairs.

  Katie had no choice but to follow. Her steps sounded louder than usual as they clopped on the wooden stairs, the noise jarring the relative peace of the inn.

  After a burst of guests, their inn was remarkably quiet. Just the other day, Henry had announced that there’d been a curious drop in reservations for the next two weeks. The news was unusual, but not unwelcome, at least to her brother.

  Katie knew Henry would rather work on projects in the workshop or fuss over Anna. He might call it “tutoring,” but he was as besotted as any man in love and didn’t try hard to hide it.

  After entering the hearth room in silence, Irene Brenneman sat on the couch next to her husband. Roman had followed. Now he was there, too, sprawled out on the braided rug and chewing on a knotted piece of rope Henry had fashioned for him.

  After gently scratching Roman’s ears, Katie moved to sit across from her parents. Her heart was beating so loud, Katie was sure her parents could hear it.

  Without fanfare, her mother said, “Your father and I’ve been talking about Jonathan and his offer for you.”

  “Oh.” Katie swallowed with relief. Oh, for a moment she’d been sure they were going to question her about the letter.

  Her father’s lips twitched. “That is not the response I had imagined you would have.”

  Katie thought quickly. “I don’t have any response prepared. I assumed a decision had been made.”

  “It had not.” After glancing her father’s way, her mother replied. “After Winnie came by and we had that discussion, your father and I did some more thinking. In a nutshell, Katie, we have reconsidered.”

  Their decision caught her off guard. “I’m surprised. I didn’t think you wanted me to be at the Lundy home.”

  “In truth, we do not.”

  “Then why are you allowing me to go? What has changed your mind?”

  With a weary expression, her father pulled out his knife and picked up the latest cane he was working on, obviously needing something to occupy his hands. After carefully lifting off a layer of birch, he met her eyes. “While it is true we did not want you to liv
e at the Lundys’, we decided that perhaps we were not right in withholding this opportunity because of our reasons.”

  “I’m not sure what reasons you mean.”

  Her mother sighed. “Daughter, simply put, we know you have particular feelings for Jonathan. We do not want to see you get hurt.” Her mother’s eyes turned worried as she continued. “Jonathan may not ever care about you the way you might wish. He might not ever want to marry again.”

  It was mortifying to know that her feelings for Jonathan were so obvious. “I know that.”

  “And you are fine with that? In two months’ time, you could return here without a hint of a future with Jonathan.”

  That was most likely true. But no matter what, Katie couldn’t deny that she wanted to be near him. She also wanted him to get a chance to see her in a whole new way: as Katie; as a capable, considerate woman, not just as Henry’s little sister. “I’m fine with the risk. No matter what, I think it will be an adventure for me.”

  Her father scowled. “A mighty strange adventure, I think.”

  “In many ways, you are still an impulsive girl, Katie,” her mother said slowly. “I had hoped that in time you would have learned to curb it.”

  “I have.”

  “Have you? Truly?” Her father glided the knife over the wood with ease. Under his hand, a smooth sphere was taking shape. “We know you did some things of which you might not feel proud. Back when you were younger.”

  The world felt like it was spinning too fast. Was this about the letter, after all?

  Had Henry already somehow read her letter? Had he also blabbed to Anna and her parents about the contents? “Those times are behind me.”

  “Time can not always be forgotten, Katie. It passes, but our deeds stay with us. Mark us. For good or bad, our past transgressions and deeds make us who we are—even when we do things just to see what they are like. Even when we do things without meaning to hurt ourselves or other people.”

  Her father’s words were true. She did feel marked and jaded. “I have tried to continue on the best that I could. I think I have been successful.”

  “We know that.”

  “Do you?” Thinking about how time and again she’d been asked to tutor Anna, Katie blurted, “You have asked my help for Anna. I have tried my best to teach her much about our life. You seem to trust me to teach her well. But when it comes to trusting me to make good decisions, you act as if I am too young. I am not too young.”

  “That is true. And it is also true that you have been a fine teacher for Anna, and an able helper at the inn,” her mother said. “Your actions have shown us your sincerity time and again.”

  Her father smiled gently. “It is with that in mind that we’ve been reluctant to see you go from us. But that is not the right thing, I don’t believe. Everyone needs to follow their own path, even if it isn’t quite what parents always want.”

  “Yes, my Katie. It is time we let you go.”

  Her mother sounded resigned. With some surprise, Katie realized this time was as difficult for her parents as it was for her. They loved her.

  Katie realized one day she, too, would marry, have children, and then eventually let them go. For the first time, she was able to acknowledge her parents’ struggle—of letting her make decisions, even when they might be different from the ones they would have chosen. “Following God’s path is not always an easy one to take,” Katie murmured. “Sometimes I don’t always know what He wants me to do.”

  “That is why there are rules to our society, the Ordnung. That is why He gave you family and friends, to lovingly guide you. Remember, Katie, no matter what, you are never alone.”

  Katie blinked. While her father’s words now felt comforting, there’d also been a time when they’d sounded mighty confining, as well. “Yes, Daed. I…I don’t want to be alone.”

  More gently, her mother murmured, “Of course not. Take care now, Katie. No one asks for perfection. We are all flawed.”

  “Sometimes, it is hard to see everyone else’s flaws. I only seem to see my own.”

  “Then look around you more carefully. Look at Anna and her struggles.”

  Katie couldn’t help but chuckle. Anna’s attempts to become one of them had not been without amusements. Anna’s canning mishaps were becoming legendary. When she wasn’t burning her fingers on hot jam, she was struggling over the water baths for the jars. But still, she’d overcome many things. “I would never have guessed Henry would be so patient with her.”

  Her mother wasn’t laughing. Instead, she pushed the conversation deeper once again. “Henry, he cares for Anna. He knows she has made mistakes, but he also has forgiven her, and seen that those mistakes made her stronger.”

  Katie had never heard her mother speak that way. In the past, it had always seemed that her parents had expected only obedience and perfection. Anything less was treated as a disappointment. That had been hard when she’d been following Rebekeh’s footsteps. Her older sister—a full six years older than herself—had made everyone so proud, so seemingly effortlessly, Katie had always known that she’d never measure up.

  When Katie’s silence continued, her mother leaned forward. “Anna feels the same way.”

  “I know.”

  “She’s made a fair amount of sacrifices for her love. She’s given up so much.”

  Katie looked at her mother in surprise. “I never think of you ever seeing the outside world as something to give up.”

  “Why is that? Katie, though you seem hard-pressed to forget such things, I, too, was once much younger. I know of the distractions and the temptations that can entice us all. Yet you and I only had a few years of the outside world. Until Anna came here, it was truly all she’d ever known. That is a very big sacrifice, I think.”

  To her shame, Katie realized she had begun to take Anna’s efforts for granted.

  “But are you sure you want to help at the Lundys’?” her mamm asked. “I fear it will be a thankless task.”

  At least Katie knew she was not hoping for heaps of praise at the Lundys’. “I am not looking for thanks.” Steadfastly, she told herself that she was not looking for affection from Jonathan, either.

  “Mary is a difficult child.”

  Mary was still hurting from the loss of her mother. “I think I may be able to help. And I do want to help them. Even Winnie.” Winnie, who also was searching for the right helpmate in life.

  “Yes, I can see that.” But still Mamm’s voice sounded doubtful.

  Wondering the cause, Katie said, “Do you think Winnie has found her true love? Or do you think she’s just following a flight of fancy?”

  Her mother’s eyes opened wide. “I don’t know. Dreams are all fair and good, and have their place in our lives. And as for true love—why, it’s a fanciful thing, I think. Love comes after a time of working side by side and believing in each other. But I do have to admit that I think it is not unreasonable for her to want to follow her own heart for a change. She should not be expected to always feel content to raise her brother’s children. Winnie has always wanted a family of her own.”

  “Love, side by side. Was that how love was with you and Daed?”

  To Katie’s amazement, her parents shared a warm smile. “I don’t know how our hearts became joined. Your father and I felt love and companionship. He made me feel peaceful and whole.”

  Katie thought of Jonathan. Thought of how her heart jumped whenever he was near. Truly, she never felt “peace” in his presence. No, it was more like a jumpy, nervous pounding in her heart, where every sense was on alert. Was that how she was supposed to feel? Or was there something different between them? Something more fanciful and dreamy? Fake.

  Patting Katie’s hand, her mother murmured, “Please pray on this, Katie. Take out what everyone else wants, and pray on the Lord’s guidance. Then you’ll know.”

  “I’ll know.” Her smile was brave. Inside, though, she was breaking.

  Katie feared she’d never know what Go
d wished her to do. Would never know what the Lord wanted.

  Or worse, Katie feared that she would be unable to do what He asked. Deep dread filled her once again. If she couldn’t carry out the Lord’s will, what would she do then?

  More important, what kind of person would she be then?

  Chapter 5

  “Henry, I just don’t know if I’ll ever be as good an Amish wife as you deserve,” Anna Metzger said as she entered his workshop in the barn.

  He chuckled but didn’t look up from the bridle he was oiling. “Anna, the things you say. What brought this on?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” It had been a particularly trying day. It was bitterly cold, she was tired, and in a burst of selfish temper, she had told Katie that she wished she were back home, tucked in an electric blanket, watching TV.

  Needless to say, that remark hadn’t gone over very well.

  But she couldn’t share that with Henry, so she just shrugged, her eyes still on him, willing him to look up and say something to make her feel better.

  Instead of talking, he held out a hand. The gesture was perfect, so Henrylike. Eager for a reassuring hug, she approached, but somehow managed to trip over one of Roman’s toys. Henry reached for her just as she’d held out her hands to stop her fall. “Anna, are you all right?”

  Her ankle did throb, but not enough to complain about. Unfortunately, though, tears still threatened to spill. It had been that kind of day. “I’m fine. Just embarrassed.”

  After settling her in his seat, Henry stood up and rubbed her shoulders. For a second, Anna thought he was going to cuddle her close. But, like always, his inner resolve and obedience shone through. Instead, he leaned forward, looked into her eyes, and gently smoothed back a lock of her blond hair into the confines of her kapp. When he spied her tears, he murmured, “Do you have a headache, liewe Anna?”

  Liewe Anna. Dear Anna. A little flutter raced across her heart at the sweet words. Since he knew about her occasional migraines, she sought to put him at ease. “No. It’s just been a long day.”

  Stepping a few inches away, he took her hands. “What happened?”