by Nancy Mehl
“So this is Gracie?” he said in a deep voice. “I’ve been waiting for her. Abel stopped by a little while ago and told me you were making the rounds.” I held out my hand, but instead of taking it, he wrapped me in a robust hug.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, my words muffled by his shoulder.
He let me go and then stared at me with interest. “My goodness. She’s the spitting image of Ben. I can hardly believe it.”
“I know,” Sam said. “It’s a little disconcerting.”
“Well, I think it’s wonderful.”
I was getting a little tired of being talked about and not addressed directly. “Were you and my uncle close?”
Levi stepped back a few paces. “No one was really close to Ben,” he said, a note of sadness in his voice. “But I cared for him.” He walked over to a nearby shelf and picked up two tall wooden candleholders. “He made these.”
He held them out, and I took them from his hands. They were oak, stained dark. Each one had carved round balls at the top where the candle was supposed to sit. Then they straightened out for about six inches before the bottom spread out into a carved base. I looked closely. The carvings were of birds and flowers.
“They’re beautiful, Levi.”
“Please, I want you to have them. Let’s find some candles to go in them. What would you like? Sandalwood, vanilla, rose, lilac...”
“I’d love lilac,” I said, “but let me pay for them.”
“Pshaw. This is a gift. For the niece of my friend.” The candlemaker’s eyes flushed with tears. “I’ll put them in a bag for you.”
“Thank you very much. I’ll treasure them.”
Levi had just pulled some paper from a stack on a table and was wrapping the candles and the holder when the door swung open behind us. A tall, grim-faced man dressed in dark clothes, a white shirt, and a large black hat stepped inside the store. Behind him trailed a young woman also dressed in black. Her long dress dusted the floor, and even though it was spring she wore full sleeves. Her head was covered with a stiff bonnet, not the light prayer covering I’d seen on other women in town. She kept her eyes downcast as if she were carefully watching her black laced-up shoes. Her attire was almost too morose for a funeral, yet the overall spirit emanating from the pair made that destination a definite possibility.
“Hello, Gabriel,” Levi said. “Have you brought me some new candleholders?”
The man stepped in front of Sam and me as if we weren’t even in the room. He put a large box on the counter in front of the store owner. “No other reason I’d be here, Levi.” His voice was sharp and raspy.
The store owner looked down into the box and carefully lifted out several metal holders. They were actually quite stunning. Intricately formed and freestanding, curved pieces of wrought iron formed the legs that held them up. Other pieces of metal had been twisted into designs that ended up creating a place to hold a candle.
“Why, they’re beautiful,” I said. “You made these?”
The man swung his gaze around and fastened his angry eyes on me. Even through his black beard I could see his lips locked in a sneer. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember addressing you,” he spat out.
“Now Gabriel, you mind your manners,” Levi said evenly. “This is Gracie Temple. Benjamin’s niece.”
The man’s eyes traveled up and down my body. “Doesn’t look like anyone Benjamin Temple would cotton to. He wouldn’t have approved of anyone this worldly.” His eyes flashed with anger. “Would have been mighty ashamed to call something like this family.”
I could feel my blood start to boil. “Now you look here...” Sam put his hand on my shoulder, and I caught myself before I said something I would probably regret. I stood there stoically, determined not to start an argument with this man. It was obvious it wouldn’t do any good.
Assuming I wasn’t going to rise to his bait, Gabriel turned back to Levi and resumed his transaction. I couldn’t help but glance over at the girl who stood by the front entrance. So this was Sarah Ketterling. Although she’d kept her head lowered throughout her father’s rude behavior, she looked up long enough to find me staring at her. Her lovely dark eyes were full of pain and embarrassment. Her light complexion turned even paler and she turned quickly toward the door.
“I’m going to wait outside, Papa,” she said in a soft voice. She slipped quietly out of the store. Gabriel didn’t appear to hear her.
“Wait here,” I whispered to Sam. I crept to the old screen door and opened it slowly. Then I stepped out onto the wooden sidewalk where Sarah stood with her back toward me, her thin body leaning against a light pole.
“Sarah,” I said as gently as I could so as not to scare her. “I wanted to tell you how beautiful I think your stationery is. I bought some of it this morning. You’re very talented.”
The girl swung around, her eyes wide. She glanced nervously toward the entrance of the candle shop. She reminded me of a frightened fawn with large brown eyes and long dark lashes. The hair under her bonnet was almost black, sharply framing her delicate features.
“Th–thank you,” she said in a voice so low I could barely hear her. “It–it’s wood-block print. I love to do it.”
“It’s wonderful,” I said with a smile. “I’m an artist, too, although a lot of what I do is on the computer. But I love all kinds of art. I paint and I’ve done some sculpting. I’ve never had the chance to learn wood blocking though. I wish you would teach me.”
Her eyes swung past me and back to the shop behind us. “I’m afraid Papa wouldn’t allow me to give lessons. I—I don’t see many people.”
I reached out and touched her arm. “Maybe you could ask him? I’d pay you for the lessons, of course. I’m staying at my Uncle Benjamin’s house. If you could show me even once...”
“Sarah won’t be showing you anything.” Gabriel’s harsh voice broke through the calm morning air. “I’ll thank you to leave my daughter alone.”
With that, he grabbed Sarah by the arm and pulled her toward him. Then he stomped down the sidewalk, his daughter scurrying behind him like some kind of pet dog. I was so furious with him—with his treatment of Sarah—that tears stung my eyes. How can anyone call himself a father and behave that way?
I swung around, grabbed the door, and pulled it open, once again almost running into Sam. Twice in one day. This had to stop.
“Sorry, Grace,” he said. “Gabriel’s been like this ever since his wife left. His problems have nothing to do with you. Don’t take it personally.”
Levi made a clucking sound with his tongue. “He locks Sarah in the house with him. She hardly ever goes out. I think he’s afraid of losing her like he did her mother. It’s a sad situation.”
“Well, Abel convinced me that regular Mennonites aren’t like Gabriel,” I said sharply as I approached the counter. “But these Old Order people really take the cake. I guess this is what my mom and dad had to deal with.”
Levi chuckled as he slid my candles and their holders into a paper bag. “Gabriel’s not typical at all, Gracie.” He pointed at Sam. “Why don’t you introduce her to Ida Turnbauer?” He smiled at me. “Ida lives right down the road from you. She’s Old Order. You’ll find her to be a wonderful and loving woman.”
“Good idea,” Sam said. “We’ll stop by sometime in the next couple of days. You’ll love Ida. She’s a doll.” He smiled at me. “You know, people are people, Grace. No matter what group you belong to, some members are gracious and loving, but some are mean, just like Gabriel. That holds true for everyone: Mennonite, Baptist, Pentecostal, Methodist, or any other label you want to use.”
I nodded. “I get your point.”
“My friends,” Levi said, holding out my package. “I’m afraid I must tend to some hot wax that won’t wait. I’m sorry to rush you. I’d love to spend some time getting to know you better, Gracie. Maybe we can plan to get together soon?”
“Why don’t you and Grace come to my house for supper tonight?” Sam said.
“That would be wonderful,” he said, giving Sam a wide smile. “Gracie, would that work for you?”
“Sounds great.”
“How about six o’clock?” Sam said.
Levi shook his finger at Sam. “Try and stop me. I hope your aunt serves some of that fantastic applesauce she makes.” He rubbed his round stomach. “It’s worth the trip, Gracie.”
“We’ll let you get to your wax,” Sam said. Then he turned to me. “I’ll go to the hardware store and pick up your lamps and flashlight. Why don’t you go to Menlo’s and wait for me? After I introduce you to the Menlos, we’ll pick up your packages from Ruth’s.”
I nodded, thanked Levi again for the gift, and set out for Menlo’s. By the time Sam got to the bakery, the lovely German couple and I were already friends. Sam and I spent almost an hour listening to them talk about their family and laughing at their funny stories. Finally, Sam made our excuses and we left.
Sam went to the truck to wait for me while I hurried to Ruth’s to pick up my earlier purchases. Although she didn’t seem to be around anywhere, my sack was on the counter, ready to go. As I came out of her store, I saw John Keystone standing by his window, watching me. I waved, but he just stared at me. The odd expression on his face made me feel uneasy, and for a fleeting moment I felt strongly that’d I seen him somewhere before. But that was impossible. I would have remembered if I’d met him in Wichita or Fairbury. I rejected the odd feeling and made my way to the truck. As I climbed inside, I noticed Mary standing outside the restaurant with a cup of coffee, glaring daggers at us. I felt confident I’d made some friends today, but Mary Whittenbauer, John Keystone, and Gabriel Ketterling certainly weren’t among them.
Sam backed the truck into the street, and we headed down Main toward Faith.
“So, did you have a good time?” he asked.
“I did. Harmony is an interesting place. I just wish I’d come here while my uncle was alive.”
“I know. Me, too.” He handed me a small sack sitting on the dashboard. “Better put your cherry turnover inside one of your other bags. If you leave it in my truck, I can’t ensure its safety.”
I laughed and grabbed the bag. “Thank you. I love these. I’ll try to save it for breakfast, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Besides being a nice man, Mr. Menlo is a skilled baker. Cakes, pies, all kinds of pastries. He sells sandwiches, too.” Sam smiled. “But these turnovers are my favorite.”
We rode in silence the rest of the way. My uncle’s letter kept running through my mind. Visiting downtown Harmony had been a welcome distraction, but now I had to face reality again. What were my options? Should I destroy the letter and act as if I’d never read it? Or should I bring it out in the open and let the chips fall where they may? One minute the first choice felt right, and the next minute the second seemed the only alternative. As I considered my options, a new possibility occurred to me. Maybe Benjamin’s letter would be enough to prove my father’s innocence. In a way, it was a record of Benjamin’s testimony—revealing his belief that Glick’s death was an unfortunate accident. Could this be my way out of this awful situation? Even if it worked, it would pull my dad into a whirlwind. Did I really want to do that?
I was so lost in thought I didn’t realize that Sam had pulled up in front of Benjamin’s house. “Hey, you should wait until you get inside to take your nap,” he said gently, pulling me out of my reverie.
“I–I’m sorry. Guess I was somewhere else.”
He looked around and smiled. “Nope, still Harmony.” He held his hands out for my packages. “Let me carry these in for you.”
He grabbed my bags as well as the sacks from the hardware store. Once inside, he put batteries in the lamps and showed me how to use them. Sure enough, they outshone the oil lamps by far. I felt relieved to have them.
“But what about the monster question?” I said, teasingly. “What do I do if Godzilla visits after dark?”
He walked over to the front door. “Sweetie told you about the flowers during the day, right?”
I nodded.
“She and Ben used those flowers as a way for him to let her know if he needed anything. She took care of him for several weeks before he died. Cleaned his house. Fixed meals. Washed his clothes. She’d walk down our driveway several times a day looking for that pot.”
“That won’t help at night when Godzilla wants to eat me.”
“No, it won’t. But I have an idea.” He smiled, seemingly pleased with himself. “Walkie-talkies. Sweetie and I use them when I’m out working in the orchards. She can call me into supper or tell me when she wants something. I’m going to give you one tonight, and I’ll keep the other. That way, if you need me, all you have to do is scream.”
“Oh, great. Hopefully, there won’t be any actual screaming.”
He laughed. “I hope not. It might disrupt my snoring.”
“Just don’t saw logs too loudly. I’d hate to have to compete.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep it to a dull roar. Now you go get that nap you’ve been planning.” He put his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll pick you up about a quarter to six. Oh, and bring your cell phone and charger along. We’ll charge up your phone, but I don’t want to mislead you. Those things are spotty at best out here. Sweetie and I use walkie-talkies because we gave up on cell phones and needed something we could count on.”
“Okay,” I said, stifling a yawn. My lack of sleep was catching up to me. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“One last thing. I hope you don’t mind that I invited Levi to join us. I did it for two reasons. One was because he’s a great guy, but the other is that he’s lived in Harmony his whole life. He knew your family. I thought maybe you’d like to talk to him about them.” He frowned. “Sweetie was born here, too, but she won’t talk much about her life before I came to live with her. I have no idea why.” He hesitated a moment. “You know, I don’t say this to many people. I love Harmony, but there’s something ... an undercurrent.” He shrugged and laughed. “I sound goofy. Maybe I need a nap, too.”
Sam was right. There were definitely undercurrents. So deep they threatened to drown my family. I smiled at him. “I’m glad you invited Levi. I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time. And thanks for the tour. I really enjoyed it.”
“You’re welcome.”
I watched as he walked down the steps, got in his truck, and drove away. So Myrtle didn’t want to talk about the past. Did she know something? She and my uncle Benjamin were obviously good friends. She was the person who kept his house clean while he was ill. If they were that close, had he told her his secret? I closed the door and leaned against it. The information I’d gotten about Glick interested me and confirmed Benjamin’s sentiments. Glick sounded like the kind of man who might have had enemies. Could his death have been something else besides an accident? Uncle Benjamin believed Glick had died accidentally—by my father’s hand. But I knew my dad. He would never walk away from a severely injured man. If he’d hurt him badly, my father would have gone for help.
In the truck, I’d wondered if I should ignore the entire situation or just tell my dad the truth and let him decide how to proceed. But as I stood here, contemplating those choices, I added two more items to my list of possibilities. What if Glick really had been murdered by someone other than my father? Someone Glick had harmed in some way. Should I keep digging? Attempt to find the truth and bring this decades-long mystery to a close?
Of course, the letter could simply be the incoherent ramblings of a dying man, and Jacob Glick might be alive and well—totally oblivious to the mystery his disappearance had caused. If that were true, my decision to walk away from my uncle’s strange missive would be the right one.
I might be confused about how to proceed, but one thing I wasn’t confused about. I had no intention of spending my life guarding this family secret the way Benjamin had. I needed to choose a course—and quickly.
I ran up the stairs to get the letter and read through it again. Maybe this time I’d see something I hadn’t noticed before. Something
that would guide me in the right direction. I pulled the dresser drawer open and rifled through my socks.
The letter was gone.
Chapter Seven
I spent the next two hours attempting to convince myself I’d simply misplaced the letter, but I finally faced the fact that it was gone and that someone had broken into the house and stolen it. After making certain no one else was in the house, I checked the front and back doors. The locks were still intact. How had my burglar gained access? A quick check of the front porch revealed a key hidden under the doormat. There was no way to know if someone who knew the key’s location had used it to enter—or if the intruder had simply stumbled upon the simple hiding place. I dropped the key into my pocket. At least now, getting into my uncle’s house wouldn’t be quite so easy.