by Nancy Mehl
I hugged her. “Me, too. Did you get stuck here last night?”
She grabbed my hand. “Yes. The snow was too much for Molasses.”
I laughed. “Your horse’s name is Molasses?”
She winked at me and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Papa says she’s as slow as molasses but just as sweet. Sometimes I think he worries more about that horse than he does me.”
“I doubt that’s true. By the way, where is he?”
“Where is who?” a deep voice bellowed from behind me. I turned around to find Gabe standing in the doorway that separates the store from the workroom. “Is that Gracie Temple? It’s been so long, I almost forgot what you looked like.”
My relationship with Sarah’s father had improved greatly since we first met, but I had no plans to hug him. Something like that could set us back to where we started. I was really glad to see him, though.
“Well, you weren’t missing much. I saw you at the meeting, but maybe you didn’t see me. I sat in the front.”
Gabe walked over to the counter next to Sarah and put the candle he held in his hand on the glass top. “I guess I did spot you sitting next to Ida Turnbauer.” His frown made it clear something bothered him.
“Did you hear what she had to say?”
He nodded, and the lines in his face deepened. “Yes, I did.”
Sarah and I glanced at each other. She rolled her eyes.
“You didn’t agree with her?” I asked.
“Oh, I agreed with her. I just don’t think it was proper for her to speak.”
Even though I like Gabe, I could feel my blood pressure ratchet up a notch. “Because she’s a woman?”
He raised his eyebrows and stared at me with amusement. “No, not because she’s a woman, although I do believe a man should speak in a situation like that if one is available. But Ida is a widow. She has no man to intercede for her.”
I wanted to go off on a mini tangent and let him know that the only time a man would ever talk for me would happen after I completely lost the power of speech, but I reined myself in. “So you’re not upset because she’s a woman. So what are you upset about?”
“I don’t think Mennonites should get involved in disputes that have to do with the governing of a town. It isn’t our place.”
“But this isn’t about governing anything. It’s about building something that will benefit the town.”
He raised his eyebrows again. “And how will this wonderful new development benefit me?”
I swung my hand around the room. “People will come here to buy candles. To buy Sarah’s stationery and note cards. You’ll make money.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Money. That’s what it always comes down to, isn’t it. Man’s greedy desire for money.”
I sighed. Gabe and I had been over this ground many times before. Unfortunately, neither one of us intended to budge.
“Money is the root of all—,” he started.
I shook my finger at him. “Not money. The love of money. You know that, Gabe. We’ve been over and over this. Sometimes I think you—”
“Stop that right now,” Sarah said sharply. “You two do this every time you get together. If I didn’t know how much you liked each other…”
“Now who said I liked this skinny little redheaded girl?” Gabe growled, shooting me his fiercest expression.
“You did, Papa,” Sarah said softly. “You said Gracie reminded you of your sister, Abigail. You said—”
“That’s enough,” Gabe barked. His expression softened as he gazed at his beautiful daughter. “I see I can’t say anything to you in confidence ever again. You love to tell all my secrets.”
“How you feel about Gracie isn’t any secret.” She fastened her large, dark-chocolate brown eyes on me. “And I know you like Papa. Isn’t that right, Gracie?”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I quipped, grinning at Gabe.
He shook his head and held up the candle he’d brought with him into the room. “Now that my daughter has restored peace between us, I’d like to show you one of my newest creations.”
I moved over to where he stood behind the counter and examined the soft buttercream-colored candle he referred to. “This isn’t your hay candle, I hope. I heard it smelled like—”
“It would be advantageous for you to stop right there,” he said. “This town. You make one small mistake and you never hear the end of it.”
Sarah laughed. It was a light, airy sound that made me feel good. “Oh my. It took us a week to get the smell out. I had no idea a little candle could stink that badly.”
“Well, I think I can safely say this candle won’t cause the same reaction.” He held it up near my nose. “What do you think of this?”
I breathed deeply. “Why, it’s honeysuckle. Oh, Gabe. It’s perfect. Beautiful.”
“Is it good enough for you to forget all about the hay-scented candle?”
“Actually, yes. And I intended to get quite a bit of traction out of that.”
“I’m sure you did.” Gabe rolled the candle around in his hands for several seconds before putting it down. He cleared his throat.
“You said you love the smell of honeysuckle. That you would miss it in the winter.”
“Yes, I did. You didn’t. I mean you didn’t…”
“Make this candle for you?” Sarah finished gently. “Yes. Yes, he did. And he named the scent Honeysuckle Grace.”
“You did that for me?” My words came out in a whisper as I forced back tears. This man had been so harsh and unyielding when I’d first met him. He kept Sarah with him at all times, never allowing her out of his sight. And he had no love or trust for any human being. But over the past several months, he’d changed. And now he’d made me a candle. It was too much, and tears coursed down my cheeks.
Gabe looked horrified. “My goodness, girl. It’s just a candle.”
Sarah came around from the other side of the counter and put her arms around me. “Gracie, is something wrong?”
I clung to her. “It’s just…it’s just that things have been so messed up since I got back. I almost forgot how much this town means to me.” I looked past Sarah’s shoulder at her father. “How much everyone here means to me.”
At that moment the shop’s front door opened, and Sam came inside to find me bawling. “For crying out loud, it’s only been a few minutes. What happened?”
I tried to explain but couldn’t get the words out. Sarah patiently tried to tell him my tears were about the candle, but Sam only looked more confused. He shook his head. “I don’t know. Earlier today she was laughing like a maniac. Then she bawled like a baby. Now she’s at it again. I guess I just don’t understand women at all.”
“This is why men must band together,” Gabe said with a sigh. “We need to have rational people around us.”
I let go of Sarah. “You two stop it,” I said sharply. “I just thought the candle was a sweet gesture. Since I got back, I haven’t had too many sweet moments.”
Sam came over and put his arm around me. “I guess that’s true. I’ll tell you what. From here on out I will shower you with sweet moments. Would that make you feel better?”
“I can’t promise anything”—I sniffed—”but it’s a good start.”
“Can I change the subject now, or are you going to start blubbering again?” Gabe asked. “I have something I want to talk to Sam about.”
I shrugged. “Depends on what you say.”
Gabe looked at me carefully. “I’m not sure the odds are good enough….”
I pushed Sam away. “Honestly, change the subject, I don’t care.” I grabbed Sarah’s arm. “I want to see what you’ve been doing since I left. Will you show me?”
Sarah nodded enthusiastically. “I have a worktable set up in back. Come with me.”
I followed her to the back room, leaving Sam and Gabe to their conversation. The room behind the curtain was warm and cozy. A fire burned in a big pot
bellied stove that sat in the middle of the space. A long workbench sat against one wall where candles cooled in their various molds. The aromas were intoxicating. Homemade curtains covered the windows, the fabric decorated with small flowers and finished with lace. Sarah’s touch was evident. She led me to a corner of the room where a wooden table had been set up for her wood-block printing projects. Several blocks lined the back of the table. Two rollers sat next to them as well as a couple of small paint trays. Sarah reached across the table to some shelves that had been attached to the wall. “Papa made these cubbies for me so I could stack my paper and cards here.” She pointed to one section. “This is all my blank paper and card stock. And over here,” she said, moving her finger to the right, “is all my finished work.” She motioned to me to follow her over to another table a few feet away. “And this is where everything dries. I wanted to show you three new patterns I’ve designed.” She pointed to a lovely sheet of stationery with a flowering vine that crept up one side. “It’s a passion flower,” she said softly. “I’ve only seen it in pictures, but it’s really beautiful, isn’t it?”
The dark blue color of the flowers intermingled with the green vines. The design was set against a cream-colored paper. The effect was striking. “It’s beautiful, Sarah. I love it.”
She smiled and pointed me to the next row of drying paper. “And I’m certain you know what this is.” The light yellow paper was edged with honeysuckle.
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how much I like this,” I said. “You won’t keep much of it in the store.”
We looked at the third design, which was a combination of deep red and purple flowers against a dark blue background. The paper itself was light blue. Sarah had outlined the flowers in a way that made them seem three-dimensional. “This must have taken hours to design and print,” I said. “It’s absolutely incredible. Put me down for the first order.”
She laughed. “I already have twelve orders. Papa brought several people back here so he could show them my work.”
I hugged her arm. “That’s wonderful. I’m really not surprised, though.”
Sarah pointed toward a small table with two chairs. “Why don’t we sit down for a minute? I’d like to talk to you if you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind. You’re my friend.”
Sarah sat across from me, folding her long blue dress under her. Her dark hair matched the black apron over her dress. White ribbons on the sides of her prayer covering touched her smooth, unblemished skin. Her natural beauty had no need of makeup. I envied her in this respect. Although I didn’t use much makeup myself, I was certainly too insecure to go out in public au naturel.
“This is where Papa and I have our lunch,” she said. “Sometimes we go to Mary’s, but Papa doesn’t like to spend money in restaurants.”
That sounded like Gabe. “Where did you and your father sleep last night?” I looked around the room. There didn’t seem to be any place to bed down.
“Oh, Papa brought the blankets in from the carriage. We always carry some in the winter. And John Keystone brought us a couple of cots he keeps in his shop. When he first moved here, he actually lived in the back of his store for a while. Now he has a nice little house outside of town. Papa and I were quite comfortable.” She flushed at the mention of John’s name.
“I saw John briefly when I got into town. He seemed to be doing well.”
She cast her eyes down and wouldn’t look at me. “Oh? I’m pleased to hear that.”
I didn’t say anything. Sarah had never confided in me about their relationship. Not directly anyway.
She raised her head and looked toward the door to the shop. “I—I wonder if I could talk to you, Gracie. About something… personal.” She swung her large, doelike eyes back to me. “I haven’t really had any friends for such a long time. Papa has kept me away from everyone except the people in our small church group for the past several years. He’s afraid I’ll leave him—like my mother did.” She reached up to wipe away a tear that slid down her cheek. “I could never cause my father that kind of pain. I know how much it hurt him. I wonder if being abandoned by the person you love isn’t the worst thing that can happen to a person.” She let out a deep sigh. “You know, I’ve wondered for many years if she left because of me. Perhaps I was too much trouble. It hurts me to think that might be the reason.” She gave me a sad smile. “I realize I don’t know much about the world. I’m sure there are things much worse that people must bear.”
I reached over and put my hand on hers. “There may be,” I acknowledged. “But losing a parent is right there at the top.” I squeezed her hand. “Your mother left because she was unhappy with herself, Sarah. Not with you. Perhaps not even with Gabe. She may have gone away with another man, but there was something wrong inside her. A healthy person doesn’t walk away from their family. You should never, ever blame yourself for her choices.”
“It’s hard not to. In all these years, I’ve never heard a word from her. If she cared about me, I would think she would contact me, don’t you?”
I didn’t know how to answer the beautiful Mennonite girl so full of grace, dignity, kindness, and pain. I thought carefully. At that moment, the idea of having about ten minutes alone in a room with her so-called mother for some real “come to Jesus” justice sounded very appealing. But that probably wouldn’t set well with someone like Sarah who believed in peaceful solutions. “I have no idea why you haven’t heard from her. But wondering about things you can’t control or situations you have no direct knowledge of is useless.” I smiled at her. “There is one thing I do know. Missing out on being with you should be the greatest regret of her life. You’re a wonderful person. Any mother would be proud to have you for a daughter.”
Another tear coursed down her face. “Oh, thank you, Gracie. You’re so kind. And such a dear friend.” She hesitated and looked toward the door again. “I’m so torn. I need some advice, and you’re the only person I feel safe enough to confide in.”
I knew where this was going, and to be honest, I wanted to get up and run away. Instead I gave her a smile of encouragement.
“There’s a…situation,” she said, almost whispering. “And I’m afraid Papa will be very upset if I tell him about it.” She shook her head. “He was so angry for so many years. I’m afraid. Afraid if I’m honest with him, life will go back to the way it was before. When he had nothing to do with others, and I had to stay inside all the time.” She stared deeply into my eyes. “I can’t cause him more pain, Gracie. Yet I can’t continue to deceive him either. I don’t know what to do.” She took a deep breath. “You see, I am in love. I am in love with John Keystone.”
From behind us came a strangled sound—more of a groan, really. Sarah’s face turned deathly white. I turned around to find Gabe standing in the doorway, his expression one of incredible rage.
Chapter Eight
No one moved for several seconds. Then Sarah stood up. “Papa…,” she whispered. She swayed suddenly, and I jumped up to catch her before she fell. I lowered her gently to the floor and put her head on my lap. Gabe seemed rooted to his spot by the door.
As I called Sarah’s name and stroked her cheek, Sam came into the room. He had to gently push Gabe out of the way. “What in the world?” he said when he spotted Sarah and me. “Is she okay?” he asked as he hurried to my side. “Is she sick?”
I shook my head at him. “No. She’s not sick. She’s afraid.”
Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Afraid. Afraid of what?”
I met Gabe’s fixed glare. “Of her father. This poor girl is afraid of her father.”
Sam stared at Gabe, too. “Gabe. I don’t understand. What’s going on?”
Gabe looked back and forth between the two of us. “What’s going on is that I allowed my daughter to come in contact with the world,” he snapped. “I see I have made a terrible mistake.”
I pulled Sam down to the floor and transferred the unconscious girl to his
arms. Then I rose to my feet and approached her furious father. “Listen to me, Gabriel Ketterling. Sarah is terrified of hurting you. She loves you more than anything in the world. She certainly didn’t set out to cause you pain. Please don’t turn this into something that will create even more destruction.” I tried to take his arm, but he pulled away from me.
“What part did you have in this?” he railed at me. “Did you encourage her to chase after that…that ungodly man?”
“Gabe,” I said as soothingly as I could. “Sarah just now told me about her feelings for John. You heard her.”
“So you had no idea this betrayal was going on behind my back?”
“Betrayal? What are you talking about? Sarah didn’t betray you. This isn’t about you. It’s about her—and John.”
He took one step closer to me and peered directly into my face. “I asked you a question, Grace Temple. Did you know about this?”
I looked back at Sam, who still held Sarah. She had begun to moan and blink her eyes. There was no way out. I had to tell the truth. I turned to meet Gabe’s eyes with mine. “I suspected it, Gabe.”
He took a couple of steps away from the door. “I want you to leave. Now. You and your boyfriend. And you’re not to ever come around here again. Ever. And let me make this very clear so you understand me.” His whole demeanor was menacing. “You are never to see my daughter again. I mean it.”
“Papa. Papa, please…” Sarah’s plaintive wail shook me. She struggled to get to her feet with Sam holding her tightly. “This is all my fault. Gracie had nothing to do with it. Please don’t take it out on her.”
“Take your hands off her,” Gabe shouted at Sam. “And follow your girlfriend out of my shop. And out of my life.” He rushed over to Sarah and pulled her out of Sam’s arms. She almost tripped and fell, but Gabe caught her and guided her over to the table, helping her back into her chair. Sarah seemed helpless against her father’s control over her.