Margie stayed for hours, telling stories of her life, while Mallory sewed the material.
When she suddenly became quiet, Mallory glanced up and found a tear glistening on the woman’s wrinkled cheek under the dim lights.
Had she missed a detail in her story? Mallory placed a hand on Margie’s knee.
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry.” Margie wiped her face with a handkerchief. “It’s so sweet of you to listen to this old woman carry on. I don’t know what came over me.” The light in Margie’s eyes dimmed. “I’m a miserable old woman these days. I don’t have anything to look forward to. I’ve put so much effort into my social status, that I’ve overlooked the most important things in life.”
“Oh, Ms. Margie, I find that very hard to believe.”
“I’m so ashamed of myself.”
Mallory smoothed out the wrinkles in the soft, beige material. “When I’m feeling bad, I find praying and reading the Bible helps.”
“That’s exactly what I need. I haven’t been to church in years. Maybe that’s what I’m missing.”
Setting her needle and thread to the side, Mallory took the woman’s hand. “Ms. Margie, you’re a beautiful person.”
“Yes, that’s the way I like to appear, but I’ve done some horrible things in my life.”
Mallory’s past rushed through her mind, the shattered moments glaring like a torturous vice squeezing the life from her. “We all have.”
“I’m going now, Elizabeth.” She patted her hand. “You’re a special girl.”
The lady seemed to have it all together, yet she was hurting.
Maybe I’m not alone.
After putting away her materials, Mallory crossed the shop to close up, when the door opened. Her chest tightened.
“Mallory?” He gaped at her plain clothes, the kapp covering her hair and gasped.
Her heart plummeted as she took a step back, willing him to disappear.
Twenty-Six
Mallory covered her mouth, her hands trembling.
Paul followed her inside, closing the door behind him. “It’s you. Why are you dressed like that?” His gaze followed the white apron covering her calico dress. “You’re working in Mary’s shop?”
She stumbled backward and moved behind the counter, avoiding his gaze. “No one can know I’m here.”
“You’re staying with Mary?” Paul’s tone hitched a whole octave. “You’ve been with her all along?”
“You mustn’t tell anyone.”
“But, Rachel ... She’s sick with worry. I can’t keep this from her.”
She held tight to the counter, trying not to shake. “Please, Paul, you don’t understand.” If Jake was watching and recognized any of them …
“And Eric …”
A thick wave of nausea settled in her throat.
“They’re so worried. This man shows up looking for you and you disappear.”
“Jake can’t find me. He’ll force me to go back.” She grasped her elbows and planted her feet, holding herself firmly in place. “I’m sorry I’ve caused all this pain.”
Paul’s brows narrowed. “Who is this man?”
She shifted with quick, jerky steps back and forth. “It’s a long story. I can’t risk putting you in danger.”
“Eric has gone …”
“It doesn’t matter.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Please understand. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“That’s not true. You have all of us.”
“You won’t be able to protect me.” She struggled to take a deep breath. “I love you guys so much. If anything happened to any of you because of me, I don’t know what I’d do.”
Paul put his hand on her shoulder. “Mallory, I won’t say anything to Rachel, yet. But Eric has to know.”
“No, please.” She paused, taking a deep breath. She had to make him understand. “You just can’t.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll protect you.” Tipping his hat, Paul moved toward the door.
He walked away, not knowing how her heart broke not being able to see Rachel—how she thought of Eric constantly. She locked the door to the shop and met Thomas at his horse and buggy.
Lying in bed, Mallory drifted in and out of sleep. She woke and sat up. A dim light from outside filled the bedroom and an eerie silence permeated the night. She stepped onto the hardwood, the floor cool against her bare feet. She drew back the heavy curtain. Wind whispered as snow fell, flakes sticking to the window. The barn roof covered, the fields no longer a dark green, but a brilliant white.
For a moment there was no danger, no worries. Time stood still as tiny flakes swirled through the air. She glanced at her watch lying on the bedside table. Three o’clock. She climbed under the still-warm quilt and snuggled into her pillow.
Mallory reached the shelter Dragonfly had built for them two years before.
She waited hours, but he never came.
Finally, she walked home, head down. She’d have to wait until after school tomorrow. When he didn’t come on Tuesday, or Wednesday, her pulse quickened and nausea filled her gut. Her bottom lip trembled. Had she done something to make him mad? What if he didn’t come back?
“Dragonfly,” she yelled to the sky. “Where did you go? How am I supposed to find you?”
The days turned into weeks. Mallory stopped eating and poured herself harder into her school work. It was the only relief she found. He wasn’t coming back. Dragonfly was gone.
One summer morning, she slipped outside before her foster parents woke and walked through town, needing to get away from everything. She had spent hours with Dragonfly every week day for two years. Suddenly, she was all alone again.
“Hey! Hey you,” someone yelled from across the street. She turned. The guy from the tattoo shop charged toward her. Hot blood coursing through her, she bolted into the street, not seeing the car coming at full speed. She froze. Dying flashed through her mind.
The man yanked her into his arms and pulled her backward on top of him. Her hands scraped against the sidewalk as she jerked away from his chest.
He rested his elbows on the concrete and studied her. “Where’d you disappear to?”
It had been over two months. How long would she be able to stay here? How long before he found her?
The next morning, Mallory lifted fresh bread from the oven, the rich fragrance filling the kitchen. Every day she had penciled things in her journal she loved about the Amish lifestyle. Standing by the window, she grabbed her book and pencil.
Snowflakes covering the farm land. The taste of cinnamon and sugar with melted butter. Tiny, bare feet tracking dirt through the kitchen in early fall.
“Elizabeth?” Mary’s panting carried from the living room.
Dropping her pencil, Mallory hurried to her side. “What is it? Are you hurting?”
Mary struggled to catch her breath. “It’s time. Can you find Thomas?”
Mallory fled the room quickly, searching each barn.
When she found Thomas standing by the horse’s feed in the far corner, he wasted no time responding. “Can you go next door? Our Englisch neighbor is prepared to give us a ride into town.”
She ran through the strip of trees that separated their yards. She slipped in the snow, the wet mush seeping through her stockings. Pulling herself up, she ran harder, heaving against the bitter wind. The brick steps leading to the large house seemed another mile high, and she gasped for air as she finished the climb. Taking no time to fix her loosened kapp, she knocked frantically, willing the neighbor to be home. Her breath caught in her throat when Margie opened the door.
“Elizabeth? What’s wrong?”
Mallory exhaled. “Oh, Ms. Margie, thank goodness it’s you. It’s Mary. It’s her baby. It’s time. We need a ride to the hospital.” Mallory pressed her hands against her knees.
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“Yes, of course, dear. Take a deep breath while I grab my coat.”
Margie stayed at the hospital until they had Mary settled in Labor and Delivery. Mallory sat next to Abigail in the waiting area while Thomas paced the room.
“What’s taking so long? The doctor would’ve told us if something was wrong. Ain’t so?”
“Of course. Try not to worry.” Mallory glanced at Thomas. “I’m sure she’s fine. The doctors will keep an eye on her blood pressure.”
He finally sat and shielded his eyes with his hat. Mallory lifted a Home and Garden magazine, but after a few minutes felt guilty and placed it back on the table. She’d never seen an Amish woman read a magazine, only the newspaper.
“Abby, do you want to walk with me? Maybe they have crayons and paper at the nurse’s station.”
The child jumped up from her chair. “Jah, I want to color.”
The nurse met Mallory’s gaze as she neared the counter. Overhearing their conversation, she handed Abby a set of crayons and a few sheets of copy paper. “Here you go, little one.”
They returned to the waiting area and Mallory studied the flower pattern on the furniture. The blues and greens reminded her of Margie’s quilt. If only she’d thought to bring something to keep her hands busy while she waited. Hours had gone by before the doctor came to tell Thomas he was the father of a baby boy.
“Danki.” He lifted his daughter into his arms. “A bu, and a dochter. I’m blessed indeed.”
The expectancy in Thomas’ eyes brought a smile to Mallory’s lips. He lowered Abby to the floor and held her hand as they followed the doctor and disappeared down the hall.
Returning to her seat, Mallory grabbed the magazine. It doesn’t matter. I’m not Amish.
When Thomas returned a few minutes later, she stood, the magazine tumbling to the floor. “Elizabeth, would you like to see Mary and the baby?”
“Oh, could I?”
“Jah, follow me.”
He held the door open to Mary’s room. “I’m going for a koffee. I’ll take Abby with me. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Mallory moved to the bed and stared into the baby’s blue eyes. “Look at his tiny fingers. Oh, Mary, I’m so happy for you.”
Mary straightened, holding the baby carefully in her arms. “Would you like to hold him?”
After taking the bundled baby, Mallory sat on the edge of the bed. She brushed a finger across his tiny cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”
“You will make a wunderbaar-gut mother someday.”
A pang of regret ripped through her middle at Mary’s words. Stroking the baby’s soft hair, hot tears burned the back of her eyelids.
Mallory settled the baby back in Mary’s arms just as Rachel walked into the room.
“Rachel, you came. How did you know?”
Mallory stood quickly, her chest pounding.
How would she escape the room without Rachel recognizing her? She tightened the strings of her black kapp. But with one glance, Rachel would recognize her, just as Paul had yesterday. Had he told her?
“Thomas called your parents. My mom is bringing them.” Her voice softened. “My mom called Paul and me.”
Mallory’s shoulders tensed, as she stared at the floor.
“Come see the baby.”
There was a brief pause and in that moment Mallory almost turned … almost told Rachel the truth.
“You have company. I can come back later.”
“Don’t be eefeldich, she was just leaving. Bye, Elizabeth.”
“Gut day.” Mallory walked toward the door and slipped from the room, her chest heaving in agony. How could she keep her identity from the best friend she’s ever had? She took a long, lingering breath before she moved toward the waiting room. She stopped. There were no tears, no trembling, only her eyes locked on him. Eric stood in the waiting room deep in conversation with Thomas.
“Elizabeth.” Abby’s sweet voice echoed off the walls.
Mallory caught a glimpse of the child. I have to get out of here.
“Where you goin’?” Abby’s soft voice trailed after her.
“She’ll be back, dochter.” Thomas’s words gave her the escape she needed.
Mallory kept going, not waiting to see if Eric recognized her. The hallway curved and she found another waiting area. She stumbled toward a seat in the corner. He saw her.
Eric followed the diminishing form of the Amish woman until he could no longer see her. “Who was that?”
Paul’s eyes widened.
Thomas grunted and cleared his throat. “A friend from the south.”
“She came all this way to see Mary?” Eric turned, searching the hallway.
Thomas pulled on his short beard. “She’s staying with us a while.”
“Oh.” Paul’s expression made Eric pause. “I guess you know her then?”
Paul cleared his throat, staring at his niece. “It’s been a while since Rachel and I have been to Mary’s.”
The banter between them had suddenly stiffened. Eric shook Thomas’s hand. “Congratulations. I better get going.”
“Thanks for dropping me off, Eric. I’ll have Rachel bring me to the office later.” Paul turned and lifted Abby into his arms.
Eric left Lancaster Regional Medical Center, hoping to catch another glimpse of the girl. Who was she? Paul had acted strange when she walked from Mary’s room. He stood too far away to make out her face, but there was something familiar about her.
I can’t keep doing this to myself. Mallory, where are you? Please come back to me. God, please help me. I want the chance to love her, Jesus. I want to show her real, true love. Please keep her safe until I find her again.
Eric stopped outside the hospital and examined the five floors of the building.
It was her.
The feeling vanished just as quickly, and he walked away. His imagination was getting away from him. He had found nothing in North Carolina. After checking every tattoo shop, he drove the ten hours back defeated. No one knew a guy named Jake. But he trusted none of the shady characters. Dread shadowed his every move. She was in trouble, and he could do nothing to help her.
Mallory moved to the window. When she spotted Eric below, leaving, she clutched her waist. She followed his diminishing figure, but he turned and looked up at the building. She stepped back. Had he recognized her? His diminishing figure grew smaller with each step. He walked toward his truck, his head down. She stared through the window until he disappeared.
She had been wrong. How could Mallory allow Rachel to believe all this time she was in danger? How could she ask Mary and Thomas to lie for her? She couldn’t do this any longer—she had to tell Rachel the truth.
Walking down the hall slowly, she anticipated Rachel’s reaction. She found Paul and Rachel sitting side by side in the waiting room.
“Mallory.” Rachel embraced her. “I knew it was you the moment I saw you.”
Paul went to visit with Thomas and left them to talk alone.
“Rachel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I was scared.”
“Andrew knew too, didn’t he?”
“I made him promise not to tell. I didn’t want …” Mallory paused as guilt washed over her, the heaviness suffocating. “Jake is dangerous. I didn’t want to drag any of you into this.”
“I had no idea. What will you do now? Wait. Eric just left. Paul, call him and tell him to come back.”
“No, please.”
“He’s so worried. He even went to North Carolina last week.”
“What?” She touched her throat. “Why would he do that?”
“He was hoping to find you. Things haven’t been the same since you left.”
Mallory stared at Rachel.
“I’ve been so worried.” Rachel took her hand. “I’m so gl
ad you’re all right.”
She had no control over Eric finding out, but would never have any reason to speak to him. And the thought seeped through her veins like venom.
Mallory rode with Thomas into town an hour early the next morning, hoping to find something for the baby. The bitter breeze whipped her thick shawl from her shoulders, and she wrapped it tighter around herself.
The scent of home cooking swirled through the air as she neared a country restaurant. The front door opened and Eric stepped out onto the sidewalk, his eyes flashing in her direction. A frisson of awareness coursed through her and she stopped midstep and covered her mouth. Two other men followed him out. She tucked her chin tight against her chest as she moved forward at a quickened pace. Eric’s all too familiar voice rang out, resounding through her ears. With a peek over her shoulder, she found him facing her but intent in his conversation.
He didn’t see me.
In haste, she turned, tripping over a fallen branch. Tumbling to the ground, she scraped her knees against the concrete sidewalk. Before she could pull the tangled skirt away from her feet, a strong hand grasped hers.
Twenty-Seven
Rich blue eyes—eyes Mallory had dreamed of seeing every night—stared into hers.
“It’s sort of like the first time, huh? Except we didn’t run into each other.” Eric helped her up and left only inches between them. “Why didn’t you tell me, Mallory? I’ve been worried sick about you.”
The warmth of his fingers buckled her knees. “I … I’m sorry. I thought it would be better this way.”
“All that matters is you’re safe.” Their heated breath created a fog in the cold air.
Dark circles filled the skin around his eyes. His usual, perfectly trimmed hair hung lower in layers across his forehead, longer down his neck. “You’re staying with Mary? Does Rachel know?”
The lump in her throat thickened, and she could only nod.
“Can we go somewhere and talk?”
She could barely breathe standing this close to him. Her world was spinning in slow motion. “I can’t.”
Broken Butterfly Page 19