Simple Choices

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Simple Choices Page 5

by Nancy Mehl


  “I used to buy it from Abigail Bradley. Unfortunately, I am on my very last jar. She sold her hives several months ago due to her poor health. She could no longer keep her honey business going.” Ida frowned. “I do not believe you have met Abigail. She is a very private person. She does not leave her house anymore and has not done so for quite some time. Her neighbor gets her groceries when they buy their own, and they check on her when they can. However, in other areas she will not allow people to assist her. The house she lives in needs repair, but all offers to help her have been rejected. I assume it is her pride that compels her.”

  Abigail Bradley. I’d heard the name before but where? Suddenly I remembered. “Sarah mentioned her once. She seemed uncomfortable talking about her though. I believe Sarah actually called her ‘strange.’”

  Ida sighed and shook her head. “I understand how Sarah feels. Abigail is … unusual. But she has had a very hard and confusing life. Abigail is the only child of very strict parents. As a young woman, she spent many years in rebellion against them and their beliefs. Then she married a man named Bradley. During her marriage she chased after some very different kinds of religions. I believe her husband also had some odd beliefs. Now what was it …” Ida strained to recapture a fading memory. Finally she shrugged. “Oh my. I am not sure, but it was something unusual. If I remember right, spaceships were involved somehow.” She gave me a small smile. “It was the seventies. A very strange time in the world. There were many curious beliefs circulating back then.” Ida giggled at the look on my face. “You think I am so separated from the world, I do not know about the seventies?”

  I grinned. “Nothing you know surprises me anymore, Ida. But I have to ask. Without TV or newspapers, where did you get your information?”

  She chuckled. “Well, I like to visit with my friends at the restaurant, and they talk about many things.” She held a hand up to her cheek. “In fact, I have heard conversations in that place that would have turned my hair gray if it had not already happened!”

  Her expression made me laugh. “Why Ida. You’re blushing.”

  “You see,” she said, shaking her finger at me. “I am not quite as sheltered as you believed.”

  I’d lived in Harmony long enough to know that whatever Ida had overheard would be considered incredibly tame by most standards. But to her it was probably scandalous. “So tell me more about Abigail,” I said, draining the last of my drink.

  The old woman stood to her feet. “I will do so but first, more lemonade.”

  After she disappeared into her kitchen, I gazed around the sparse but comfortable living room. I knew Ida missed her husband, but she had adapted without complaining and feeling sorry for herself. In fact, I couldn’t remember her ever voicing one word of self-pity. She was a remarkable woman, and when I compared myself to her, I definitely came up short.

  “Here we go,” she said, as she came back with two glasses in her hands. “I had a lemonade earlier, but I have decided to splurge and help myself to a second one.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I think the honey stimulates me too much, but today I will not be concerned about that.” She handed me my glass and sat down again. After taking a sip, she placed her drink on the table next to her. “Now where was I? Oh yes. Abigail. After her husband ‘went off the deep end,’ as she put it, she left him and traveled, trying to find herself, whatever that means.” Ida’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “I have no idea why a person would need to find herself. We are with ourselves all the time, ja?”

  I grinned. “Ja.”

  “Anyway, after running around the country for many years and becoming ill, she was taken in by a Mennonite couple who cared for her. Although they were not Old Order, their mother was. Abigail latched on to her like a puppy following its mama, I guess, although I am certain Abigail would express it differently. She told me the mother was her mentor. So, she adopted the Old Order ways.” She held her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “That is the whole story. To be honest with you, I feel she became Mennonite not because she believed in our ways but because our lifestyle reminded her of the parents she left behind. And perhaps she was also looking for a place to hide.” Ida frowned. “I do not want to escape from the world. I choose to keep my life free from distractions that may separate me from my precious Savior. However, I fear Abigail has a completely different reason for her choices.”

  “But how did she end up in Harmony?” I suddenly realized I was no longer feeling hot. Hopefully it was because of Ida’s interesting story and not the first stage of heatstroke.

  “Actually, the family she lived with brought her here during a visit to a relative who owned the house where Abigail now resides. When the family member died, Abigail bought the house and moved to Harmony with her son. Until then, the boy had been living with his father, but he died, leaving the child without a home. So Abigail brought him here, and he lived with her until he left for college. He moved away not long after your parents left Harmony. Abigail has stayed alone in that house ever since.” She rubbed her hands together like she was cold. “In truth, I was glad to see her son leave. He was such an unhappy boy. Abigail brought him up very harshly, with many rules and restrictions. Several people tried to help, to tell her she was hurting him. He became extremely withdrawn and would act out sometimes in town with the other boys. Unfortunately, after Abigail became frustrated with his behavior, she eventually kept him home almost all the time.” She rubbed her chin. “I remember that he had a girlfriend once. He was very much in love with her. A beautiful girl as I remember with hair the color of wheat and startling blue eyes. What was her name?” Ida stared into space for a moment. “Melanie, I think. Melanie Pemberton. But Abigail’s interference broke them up. The girl’s family moved away not long after that, and I never saw C.J. smile again. It was so sad. I was glad to hear he was going to college.” She sighed. “Higher education was discouraged back then in our group, but I believed C.J. needed to get away before Abigail broke his spirit.”

  “Did Abigail know my uncle Benjamin?”

  Ida nodded. “Oh yes. In fact, I believe Abigail had some interest in him as a husband. Benjamin did not return her feelings, but he was close to the boy until he left Harmony.” She smoothed out her skirt with her age-spotted hands. “Your grandfather did not like the boy, though. When they were young, he forbade your father and your uncle from spending time with him outside of school. I have no idea why, but Joe felt C.J. was a bad influence. I disagreed with him at the time because I felt C.J. needed good examples in his young life. Joe would have none of it.” She sighed. “Joe could have been such a help to the boy. To this day I do not understand why he could not extend a hand of friendship. Joe wouldn’t talk about it. So you see why I was happy when C.J. went away. I hope he has turned out right. He has been in my prayers for quite some time.”

  “When was the last time you saw Abigail?”

  “It has been awhile,” Ida acknowledged. “Our small group used to take turns meeting in each other’s homes, but then she refused to leave her house. We started gathering together at her place, but now our numbers have dwindled, and there are no more home churches. Most of us have chosen to attend Bethel, including the Ketterlings and the Voglers. That just leaves the Beckenbauer brothers and Abigail. The brothers have both been too ill to attend church, so Abigail has been alone. I have invited her several times to Bethel, but she has declined my invitations. She believes the church is too liberal.” She smiled sadly. “I have tried to talk to her about this, but it has been to no avail. I am not certain her standards are the only reason for her refusal. I think she is now too afraid to leave her home. The last time I saw her was in May when I hitched up Zebediah and rode over to see her.”

  “Are you worried about her?”

  “Well, as I said, her neighbors were checking on her and buying her groceries, but with the wheat harvest going on, I am sure they do not have the time to keep a close watch on her. I must admit that I am concerned.” She jabbed at her
right leg with her finger. “This leg of mine has been so stiff and sore the last few months, and the trip to Abigail’s takes quite awhile. But that is no excuse. I will ride over to see her after I visit with your parents and grandfather tomorrow.” She clapped her hands together. “I am so excited. Do you know what time they will arrive?”

  “Sweetie is hosting a big dinner tomorrow night to welcome them. One reason I came over was to invite you. Either Sam or I will pick you up around six if that’s okay.”

  “Oh ja. I would love to go. But you do not need to worry yourself about me. I will hitch up Zeb and carry myself.”

  “I thought perhaps Zeb would rather stay in his shed since it’s so hot. Wouldn’t that be better for him?” The horse was as old and decrepit as its owner. I dreaded the day something happened to him. Ida treated him like a dear, beloved friend.

  “Well, you may be right,” she acknowledged. “If it would not be too much trouble …”

  I stood up, leaned over, and kissed her cheek. “It would most definitely not be too much trouble. Now I must get home. I need to get to bed early so I’ll be bright and cheerful when my family arrives.”

  Ida also stood to her feet. “Ach, I hope I will be able to sleep tonight due to my exhilaration. Do you believe your grandfather will remember me?”

  Ida knew my grandfather was battling Alzheimer’s. “I’m not sure, but it’s his short-term memory that seems to be the most affected. I think it’s very possible he will know exactly who you are.”

  “I hope so,” she said, a tinge of sadness in her voice. “How awful for him to be trapped in a mind that does not work the way it should. It is so heartbreaking, ja?”

  “Yes it is.” I gave her a quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow, liebling. And remember, we have prayed for Hannah and God has listened. I expect everything to turn out right. You must do so, too, ja?”

  I nodded. “Thanks, Ida. I always feel better after speaking to you.”

  “That means more to me than you know, my dearest Gracie,” she said softly.

  I’d already opened the front door when a thought struck me. “Ida, what if I go by and check on Abigail sometime in the next few days. Would that help?”

  “Oh Gracie, I do not know. She does not know you, although I did tell her about you.” She considered my question for several seconds. Finally she said, “Perhaps if you tell her who you are and that I sent you, she will receive you.” She looked at me hopefully. “It would be wonderful if you could make certain she is well. And it would save Zeb and me from that long ride.”

  “Even if she refuses to see me, at least we’ll know she’s okay,” I said. “Let me get my folks settled in, and then I’ll drive over there. Don’t worry about her, okay?”

  “Ja, ja. Thank you, Gracie. You are such a blessing to me.” Her face crinkled up in an angelic smile.

  “And you are a blessing to me.” I waved good-bye and closed the screen door behind me.

  After I got home, I spent the rest of the evening adding a few last touches to the house. On the way back from Ida’s, I’d picked some of the wildflowers that grew near the large lake behind my property. I placed the flowers in vases and scattered them throughout the house, making certain the upstairs bedrooms had the loveliest arrangements.

  Although I climbed into bed early, I had trouble falling asleep. I kept thinking about seeing my family again. It had been awhile since I’d been to Nebraska, and it was the first time they’d been to Harmony in thirty years. Their departure had been under negative circumstances, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they’d see the differences now. The tyrannical bishop who once ruled the town with an iron fist had been gone a long time. Abel Mueller’s compassionate leadership helped to change Harmony’s complexion—along with the commitment of its citizens to keep the peace they worked so hard to protect. I felt sure my parents would be pleased to find their hometown’s current condition.

  Finally, a little after eleven o’clock I fell asleep. It seemed like only minutes later when I awoke to the sound of pounding coming from downstairs. I struggled to sit up and focus my eyes so I could see the numbers on the clock that sat on the dresser across the room. Five thirty? The insistent knocking continued. Dressed only in a pair of boxers and a T-shirt, I grabbed a robe out of the closet and hurried down the stairs, trying to pat my hair into place. I flipped on the front porch light and swung the door open to find Abel and Emily standing there. The looks on their faces sucked the breath out of my lungs.

  “She’s gone, Gracie,” Emily said, tears running down her face. “Hannah’s missing!”

  Chapter Six

  By seven thirty, my little kitchen was full to overflowing with people. Sweetie and Sam drove over after my frantic phone call. I’d called Pat Taylor, and as he tried to sort out the situation with Abel and Emily, Sweetie glared at him while Sam stayed busy trying to ignore him.

  “So you checked on Hannah around five o’clock this morning?” Pat said. “Isn’t that a little early?”

  Emily shook her head. Her large brown eyes reflected her fear. Her prayer covering sat crookedly on her head, and stray brown hairs touched with silver peeked out from underneath it due to a hastily pulled-together bun. “I wake up early every morning. It’s my quiet time with the Lord.” She stared at the bleary-eyed law enforcement officer who clearly hadn’t expected to be rushed out of bed at sunrise. Her eyes spilled over with tears. “I—I just felt as if something wasn’t right. When I opened the door to her room, I could see that her bed was empty.”

  Pat frowned. “Was the bed messy? Had it been slept in?”

  Emily hesitated for a moment. “No. As a matter of fact, it was made up. I hadn’t thought about it. What does that mean?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead his eyes darted around the room, studying each of us carefully. I felt like a bug under a microscope. Everyone but Sweetie met his gaze. “Anything unusual happen lately? Any reason this young woman has to be upset or angry?”

  I quickly filled him in on Hannah’s desire to stay in Wichita. “But that couldn’t possibly have anything to do with this,” I said. “For one thing, Hannah adores her parents and would never just leave without a word. She knows how much it would hurt them. And anyway, she has nowhere to go. Jim Monahan, the art teacher in Wichita, would never allow her to stay with him without her parents’ permission.”

  “I’m gonna need his contact information,” Pat growled. He put his notepad on the table and scowled at us. “Any other place she might go?”

  “Not that I can think of. Well, maybe my friend Allison’s since that’s where we stayed. But she doesn’t even know Allison. There’s really no reason she’d head there.”

  “Give me the number anyway,” he said, sighing. “You people really don’t think a girl who didn’t want to come home would run off if she’s forced back? Have any of you actually thought this out?”

  “Of course they have,” Sam retorted. “Abel and Emily know their daughter, and they’re frightened. Maybe you should pay attention to what they’re trying to tell you.”

  Pat locked eyes with his son. “I’m paying attention,” he said, his tone a little softer, “but Hannah hasn’t been abducted. She’s run away.” He turned his gaze to Abel and Emily. “You said there was no sign of forced entry. Her bed was made. Did you happen to check to see if any of her clothes are missing?”

  “Of course not,” Abel snapped. “Our minds were a little occupied. Checking out her wardrobe wasn’t our first concern.”

  “Look Pat,” I interjected. “Even if she ran away of her own accord, you still need to find her. She could get into trouble.”

  “I agree, and I have every intention of looking for her,” he said. “A girl who’s lived the kind of sheltered life she has shouldn’t be out there on her own.” He stopped and studied Abel and Emily for a moment. “She would be on her own, right? Is there a boyfriend in the picture?”

  “Hannah hasn’t run off
with a boy,” I said.

  “There’s no boyfriend,” Abel agreed.

  “Well, actually …” Emily said, looking at her husband.

  Abel’s eyebrows knit together as he stared back at his wife. “What are you saying? There’s a boy in her life? Why don’t I know anything about this?”

  Emily lifted the skirt of the apron she wore over her dress and wiped her eyes. “The boy isn’t actually in her life, but Hannah told me last week she has a crush on Jonathan Vogler. I doubt he even knows it.”

  Pat picked up his notebook again and scribbled in it. “Won’t hurt to check it out.”

  “What do you intend to do, Sheriff?” Abel asked, skepticism written clearly on his face.

  “I intend to look for your daughter. I’d like to come by your place and inspect her bedroom, if you don’t mind. Any clues I can find as to her frame of mind might help me to locate her.”

  Abel stood to his feet and held his wife’s arm as she rose from her chair. “That would be fine. We’ll meet you there.”

  “Don’t straighten up,” Pat said, his tone serious. “In fact, don’t touch anything. Just wait for me.”

  “Yes, we understand. You have our address?”

  “I do. You go on. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Abel—Emily,” I said. “If you need anything …”

  “I think you’ve done quite enough,” Emily said angrily. “I’d appreciate it if you’d just stay away from us for a while.” She turned and fled out my front door.

  Abel waited until he heard the door slam. “I’m sorry, Gracie,” he said gently. “Emily’s nerves are on edge.” He gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Please be patient with us.” He quickly followed his wife out of my house.

  I put my head in my hands. Emily’s words played over and over in my mind. I could feel tears on my fingers, but I didn’t care. The loudest voice in my head at that moment was the one that criticized me. Was this really my fault? Sweetie’s voice cut through my thoughts.

 

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