Broken Butterfly

by Cindy Patterson

  Head tilted slightly, his eyes locked with hers. “She’s a friend of yours?” He took a deep breath and released it. “How did you two meet?”

  “She works at Mary Yoder’s quilt shop. She’s been doing some quilting for me, and she’s quite talented.”

  Eric glanced at his mother. “Mary’s Amish quilt shop. Really? I would’ve never imagined that.”

  Mallory stood, unable to bear his judgment. “I told your mother I’m not a true Amish woman.”

  “Yes, Eric, and you really shouldn’t stare at her that way.”

  Eric’s gaze warmed. “You’re right. But she’s so beautiful.”

  His deep voice soaked through her skin. The glass quavered beneath her fingers, and she returned it to the table. “I better get back home.” She moved past him, eager to get away. “Thanks for having me.”

  Margie’s smile faltered. “But we haven’t had our dinner.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Margie. I promise to come another time.”

  “Yes, of course. You’re shaking, dear. Eric will take you home.” She grabbed his arm. “She had a fainting spell this afternoon.”

  Eric’s grin diminished. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She moved toward the back door. Glancing at Margie, she shook her head. “I’m fine, really.”

  “My son will drive you. I won’t take no for an answer. Besides, I have all this to send with you. You’ll never be able to carry it.”

  Margie retrieved containers from the kitchen counter, filled them, and put them in a bag, while Eric stood, unmoving, watching Mallory. She stared at her wet, black shoes.

  “There’s plenty for you, too. Maybe your appetite will return before you turn in for the night.”

  After taking the containers from his mother, Eric rushed toward the door and opened it for Mallory.

  His mother followed him. “Eric, I’m so glad you came. I hope you’ll come again soon.”

  “I’ll be back.”

  Ms. Margie placed a hand on Mallory’s shoulder. “Good. We need to talk. Take care, Elizabeth. I’ll see you soon.”

  Eric led the way as Mallory followed reluctantly. A sudden chill reached through her. The reality of the situation wouldn’t register. Breathless, she admired his dark hair curled under his ball cap. Eric, the man she’d fallen hopelessly in love with, was Dragonfly, the same boy responsible for breaking her heart all those years ago. She couldn’t put the two in the same category. Dragonfly was someone totally different to her. Her childhood friend. Someone she’d shared her dreams with, who’d promised to take her away, to keep her safe. Knowing these two very different people were the same person was too much to grasp.

  She caught a glimpse of Dragonfly’s smile. A wave of uncertainty washed through her. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Why would she? Never in a million years would she have believed Eric was the same one she’d grieved for every day after he disappeared.

  Eric wanted to reach for Mallory’s hand as they walked toward his truck, to feel the soft skin he’d missed. Dressed in the plain Amish dress, she was even more beautiful.

  After opening her door and hopping inside, he sat there for a few seconds before starting the engine.

  He turned onto the dirt road leading to Mary’s. “Are you feeling better?”

  She stared through the window, clinging to the bag of food. “I’m fine.” With a single shift, she glanced at him. “Thank you.”

  Mary’s house drew closer. Driving slowly, he prolonged their time together if only for a few minutes. He wanted to find an excuse to stop, to keep her with him. He wasn’t ready to say goodnight, yet.

  “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my pleasure.” A battle to keep her secure raged within him. “I had no idea you were staying right next door to my mother.”

  Could she be married? He wanted to ask, but couldn’t find the words. Would it matter? Nothing would stop him from keeping her safe. He’d only moved in with Paul a few weeks ago and had searched every face in Paradise. She’d been next door all along.

  Her gaze moved to her feet. “I shouldn’t have led everyone to believe I was missing.”

  The sound of her nearness brought a rush of pleasure.

  She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry.”

  Victoria had tricked them both, and he imagined how bad it must have hurt Mallory. He wanted to explain, to make her understand what she’d seen wasn’t true. Victoria had gotten what she wanted—to come between them. How would he ever talk his way out of the picture? Why should she believe him?

  “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He wanted to say more, but would be patient. Give Mallory time to get to know him, to realize he could never do something like that. If that was the only way he could ever have Mallory back in his life, he would do what he had to, no matter how long it took.

  Late Thursday afternoon, Mallory daydreamed through dinner preparations. Rolling out dough on the kitchen counter, she imagined a different life—one where Jake never entered the picture. But he did, and things were different now. Knowing Eric was Dragonfly complicated the heartstrings yanking her in a completely different direction, but she couldn’t let her guard down. Besides, it changed nothing, except for one thing. The boy she’d spent her life missing, spent her life loving, spent countless days imagining the day he’d return, never came for her.

  A soft tap on the back door startled her.

  Mallory’s hands were covered in flour. Abigail sat at the kitchen table, turning the pages of a picture book.

  “Abby, would you please get that?”

  She scooted off her knees and in three short jumps reached the door. “Hullo.”

  “How are you, Miss Abby?” Mallory’s throat closed at the sound of Eric’s voice. She tried cleaning the flour from her hands, her stomach in a full-blown flutter.

  “Wunderbaar-gut, danki.” Abigail skipped into the sitting room to join her mother.

  He moved toward the counter where Mallory worked. “Hi.”

  “Hey.” Mallory’s lips curled upward without her consent. No matter how the image of his face had filled her mind every day and brought nothing but wrenching pain, still she longed to see him.

  I can’t do this.

  She had to put him out of her mind once and for all.

  “Mamm, we have a visitor.”

  “Jah, it’s Elizabeth’s friend. Why don’t you help me with the baby so they can visit?”

  “Elizabeth,” Eric whispered.

  She concentrated on the cloth in her hand. “It’s my middle name. It was Mary’s idea.”

  “I want to know everything about you, Mallory Elizabeth.”

  Startled, she turned toward him. She brushed the dish rag across the counter with extra force, her head swirling with questions. “I’m busy preparing dinner.”

  “I can see that.” He inched closer. “Can I help?”

  “There’s nothing left to do.”

  His boyish grin filled his face. “I’m going to peek at the baby.”

  His soft cries reached her ears, and she walked to the living room doorway. Eric held him, making cooing sounds. Seeing Jacob in his arms tugged at her heart, until visions of the positive pregnancy test came to mind. Did he know the truth? Or did he leave Victoria as soon as he got what he wanted? She turned quickly and placed the biscuits in the oven, eager to escape the memory.

  Thomas walked through the back door moments later and hung his hat on the hook. “You’re feeling better today, ain’t so?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Hullo, Eric.” Thomas reached for his hand. “What brings you by?”

  “I came to visit Mallory.”

  Heat burned her cheeks.

  “But I also wanted to see your baby. I didn’t get a chance the other day.”

  “You and Elizabeth are friends?
”

  Eric propped his arm against the wall. “I’d like to think we’re very good friends.”

  Clearing her throat, Mallory set out the last of the dishes on the table.

  “Let us enjoy a meal together then you can both visit.”

  Mallory took her usual seat on the bench next to Abby, and Eric sat directly across from them. Thomas prayed before they passed the food around the table. Every glance at Eric brought on rushes of uncertainty. Dragonfly. Was this really happening?

  “How’s business?”

  “We have a full schedule.”

  “That’s a gut thing, ain’t so.” Thomas leaned back drinking his tea. “I remember a time when Paul worried about keeping enough work.”

  Appetite diminished, Mallory forced down a small bite of chicken.

  When enough time had passed, she stood to clean the dishes. Abigail moved to her side to dry them as Mary walked upstairs to feed the baby.

  Thomas grabbed his hat and straightened it on his head. “I need to step outside to tend to something.”

  She hoped Eric would follow him out the door, and yet, longed for him to stay. The sound of stacking dishes rang through her ears. A lurch of yearning crept up her spine.

  “Are you goin’ to help us?” Abigail stood on her tiptoes to reach the counter.

  “I would be honored.” Eric placed a few plates in the sink, his arm brushing against Mallory’s.

  “Abby, could you help me for a few minutes,” Mary called from the bottom of the stairs.

  “Oh, mamm, do I have ta?” Her lips puckered.

  “Jah, do as you’re told.”

  Abigail left the kitchen, her small, kapped bun falling to one side.

  “Do you want me to wash or dry?” Eric stood close behind her, his breath sweeping through her hair.

  “Neither, I can manage, th…danki,” Heat rushed up her neck, under his stare.

  “Dinner was delicious.” Eric took a clean dish dripping with water from her hands. “And you make a very beautiful Amish girl.”

  Mallory reached into the sink harder than she should have, causing an array of bubbles. One escaped, landing on her nose. Eric took the towel and brushed it away. His gaze hypnotized her every rational thought. She flinched. Anger and love blended together making her dizzy. “Please stop. You shouldn’t be here.”

  A heavy feeling settled in her stomach when he didn’t respond.

  As they finished drying the last dish, he folded the towel and placed it on the counter. “Goodnight, Mallory Elizabeth,” Eric whispered close to her ear before walking through the back door. A stirring swept through her. She grabbed the counter, her eyes distorted for several minutes when Mary placed an arm around her.

  “Come and sit. You’ve had a long day, ain’t so?”

  Mallory didn’t argue and followed her into the living room, her chest pounding with a new fear. How would she ever be strong enough to keep her distance?

  Eric headed toward his mother’s house, his thoughts centered on Mallory.

  A slow smile lifted his mother’s lips. “Eric, I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. Won’t you have dinner with me? I made a big pot of soup. I thought about taking some over to Mary’s for tomorrow. Elizabeth didn’t come to the store today and I’m worried about her.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about her.”

  Stirring through the thick vegetable soup, she kept her eyes averted. “Have you seen Elizabeth? When she fell to the floor it scared the life out of me.”

  “She’s fine. Did she tell you who she is?”

  “Yes, of course she told me. I’ve seen her nearly every day for weeks now.”

  “I know she told you she’s not Amish, but Elizabeth isn’t her real name.” He had contemplated his decision to tell her the truth. He worried she would end their newfound relationship. How could he do that to Mallory? It would only cause her more pain. But, Eric couldn’t let his mother find out and have her react directly to Mallory. It would be better to handle it this way.

  His mother shifted. “She’s the girl, isn’t she … the same girl who worked for Mr. Chamberlain?”

  He crossed his arms, studying her closely. “You knew?”

  “How will she ever forgive me?” Pressing her hands against her cheeks, she met his gaze. “I’ve been horrible and now … Oh Eric, I love that girl so much.”

  He’d never seen his mother show so much emotion about anything. A shaky laugh tumbled out. “You love her?”

  She pressed her hand with heavy motions back and forth across her sleeve. “I’m no fool. I know you love her. I knew the minute I saw the two of you together. Don’t play games, Eric Matthews. Is she going to be okay?”

  Staring off into space, Eric wasn’t sure how to answer. “Are you telling me it doesn’t matter to you who she is?”

  Her wrinkled cheeks stretched. “Have you listened to anything I’ve said? That girl is precious to me. You take care of her and please forgive me for my interference. I was wrong and I’m so sorry.”

  Holding his mother in his arms, he thanked God she had not only seen the truth, but that He was also softening her heart.

  Twenty-Nine

  Eric parked his truck on the dirt path after he was sure Thomas’s family had finished dinner, but before it was too late. Wrapping his arms tight against his body, he walked around to the back and knocked.

  Mary answered and moved aside, allowing him to enter. “Hullo, Eric. The air is extra cold tonight, jah? It may snow again soon.”

  “It’s freezing. I hope all of you are doing well.”

  “We are wunderbaar-gut. What brings you by?”

  “I wanted to see Mallory.” Eric shook his head. “I mean Elizabeth.” What did they expect him to call her?

  Her smile eased his tension. “Jah, of course. I’ll get her.” She pointed to the table. “Won’t you sit and make yourself at home?”

  He stepped deeper into the kitchen and heat from the stove warmed him.

  As Mary walked away, he rubbed his neck, not looking toward the living room. How would Mallory respond to him coming again so soon?

  “Eric?” Mallory walked into the kitchen and he turned. Her brows creased, forming tiny lines between her eyes. “What’re you doing here?”

  The minute he stood next to her, he heaved a deep sigh. Her kapp had been removed and strands of light, brown hair curled down the sides of her face. “I came to see you.”

  “Why?”

  “I hoped we could talk.”

  Mallory walked by him and outside. He followed her and closed the door to keep the cold air from slipping inside.

  She wrapped her arms around her waist and kept her head lowered, her gray dress flapping in the wind. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Eric took his coat off. “Here put this on.”

  “No, you’ll freeze.” She stared out into the fields.

  He placed it on her shoulders. “Will you sit in the truck with me?”

  “I can’t, Eric. Tell me what you want to say.”

  “I didn’t have anything to say.” He didn’t want to rush this moment and looked out over the yard. “I just wanted to see you. Please?”

  Mallory walked with quick steps, and when they reached his truck allowed him to help her inside. The air coming through the vents warmed her, and she tried to remove his coat.

  “Are you warm?” He asked already knowing her answer.

  She kept her legs tight together, squeezing her arms against herself.

  “It’s cooler here than in North Carolina.”

  With a pained expression, she nodded.

  “Wear it until you’re warm.”

  “Eric, you shouldn’t. I mean, it’s not a good idea for you to come here.”

  “Are you worried he’s still following you? I w
on’t let him take you again.” He studied her. After only one brief glance, she looked away. It frustrated him. “I’ll go if you want me to, but I’ll keep coming until you tell me you never want to see me again.” Eric waited several seconds for a response before he stepped from the truck and helped her down. He led her to the house in silence. Mallory turned to him once before entering, but said nothing.

  Eric would give Mallory as much time as she needed, but he’d stay near her as much as possible until he was sure Jake was no longer in Lancaster County. No matter how mad it made her.

  Mallory worked diligently Saturday morning on a quilt when she overheard Mary talking to someone in the kitchen. She tried to ignore the voices, hoping they would go away … hoping it wouldn’t be him, yet longing to see him again. Eric had come every night, and it left her more confused than ever.

  “Good morning,” His voice carried from the kitchen doorway.

  Mallory focused on pulling the thread through the material.“Hi.” She would speak and be polite, but she didn’t have to look at him. It would be easier.

  “It’s beautiful.” The admiration in his voice softened her mood.

  “Danki, it’s for Abby.” Still uncomfortable with the Pennsylvania Dutch, she hoped he didn’t notice how ridiculous she sounded.

  “You don’t have to pretend with me, Mallory.”

  “I’m not pretending.” She stood and the quilt slipped from her grasp. He had no clue what she’d been through, what he’d put her through ten years ago. “This is who I am now, and you might as well get used to it if you are determined to keep coming here.”

  Eric took several, slow, deep breaths. “Rachel wanted you to come over. I’m here to drive you.”

  “So, you’re my chauffeur now?” She didn’t try to hide the sarcasm in her voice. Turning, embarrassed by her burst of anger, she gathered the quilt from the floor.

  She pressed her hands against her cheeks when she faced him and caught the dismal twinge of regret in his eyes. His hair, still wet, gleamed in the morning sunlight. His day old stubble made him even more handsome. She wanted to memorize his features. Though it hurt whenever she thought of him, she couldn’t stop herself. His eyes held a hint of glimmer behind the pain. However, the dark circles were no longer evident.