by Beth Wiseman
“Do you think Katie Ann and her son would consider moving here to Middlefield?” Maureen brought her hands to her chest.
Katie Ann had been through so much, and she seemed settled and happy in her new world. Eli envisioned a life with Katie Ann, surrounded by the mountains, sunshine most days, and—the baby. He would be Jonas’s father if Katie Ann would have him. With his children’s blessings all around him, he couldn’t help but get excited about the possibility of being with Katie Ann and Jonas in Colorado. “I think we would be best to live in Canaan.”
“We would miss you so much, Daed,” Karen said. “But you’ve given to each and every one of us, over and over again. We will support any decision you make.”
“Danki, girls.” Eli narrowed his brows. “And what does your bruder think about this?”
“Jake agrees with us,” Hannah said.
Eli rubbed his chin and wondered how hard it would be to be away from his children—and his grandchildren. Could he really do that?
But could he really live without Katie Ann?
MARTHA KNOCKED ON Arnold’s front door.
“Why don’t you use the key I gave you?” Arnold lifted one eyebrow as he stepped back so Martha could enter.
“Easier to knock.” Truth was, it felt odd to walk into Arnold’s home unannounced. Rumors were flying that Arnold was going to propose. He’d been caught browsing among the rings at a jewelry store in Monte Vista. Vera told Martha she’d seen him when she was on her way to the post office, and from that point, everyone in the Amish community seemed to know. And that was okay. Martha didn’t mind being the center of attention. But she wondered how Danielle fit into this scenario. Poor girl didn’t have any parents, and her ex-boyfriend was certainly a thug. She couldn’t turn her out on the street. While she couldn’t say she was bonding with the girl, she did feel protective of her.
“How is it going with Danielle?” Arnold sat down on the couch while Martha sat down in Arnold’s recliner. She loved the way he always insisted she sit in his favorite chair.
“Funny you should mention that.” Martha squared her jaw and leaned her head forward a bit. “Do you know I think that girl could sleep fourteen hours a day if I didn’t get her up? And, Arnold, you know I like my junk food, but she survives on it. She ate all my Fritos before I even had a one. And sodas . . . she’ll drink them back-to-back all day long.” Martha took a breath. “And she’s a slob. Throws her clothes everywhere, leaves plates and food in her room, and her clothing . . .” Martha rolled her eyes. “And did I mention that she’s lazy?”
Arnold chuckled. “Sounds exactly like most of the teenagers I’ve known.”
“None of my Amish family has teenagers that act like that.”
Arnold nodded. Martha knew that Arnold and his son had fallen on bad terms until shortly before Greg died. Arnold said he would be forever thankful that they mended their ways.
“Were you a part of Greg’s life when he was a teenager?”
“Yes. I was. They are difficult years.”
He shook his head, which made Martha wonder if he’d take on Danielle in the marriage proposal too. She wasn’t about to ask.
“Where is Danielle at now—home?”
Martha sighed as she rolled her eyes. “Yes, I suppose her home is my home. And that’s where she’s at. I’m hoping she’ll look for a job. Not that money is an issue. But I need her out of the house sometimes. She interrupts my schedule.” She crossed her legs. “I have my certain shows that I like to watch on TV. I like to eat supper at exactly seven o’clock. And I don’t like anyone else running bathwater at the same time I am. I lose water pressure.”
“How long are you planning to let her stay?”
Ah. There was the question. Maybe Arnold was waiting to propose until he found out exactly how long she’d be housing the teenager.
Martha shrugged. “I have no idea.”
DANIELLE KICKED HER feet up on Martha’s ottoman while she stretched out in Martha’s comfy chair. She was sure the woman would have a heart attack if she saw her sitting so smug in the worn-out recliner. After rubbing some jasmine vanilla lotion on her hands, she clicked the television on. For such a big house, this was the only TV, and Martha always controlled the remote. She flipped through the channels, but after a few minutes she hit the Off button. There wasn’t anything good on this time of the afternoon, and besides . . . she couldn’t concentrate.
It was only a matter of time before Martha found out she was lying, and then she’d throw her out for sure. And there was no way she was going back to her old life. She reached up and touched the scar on her cheek. The doctor said it would fade over time, but Danielle wasn’t sure she’d ever really heal.
She replayed the scene in her mind, wondering what she’d done to provoke it. Closing her eyes, she could almost feel the blows to her face, particularly the curled fist with the chunky gold ring that caught her upper cheek and eye. She’d known when she smelled the whiskey and saw the staggering, she should have run. As she’d done more than once before.
She glanced around Martha’s house. The woman annoyed her to no end with her rules about housecleaning and eating at a certain time, and she had zero sense of fashion—evidenced not only by her own bizarre clothing, but also by her house décor. Danielle looked at the picture of the owls hanging above an outdated red and gold couch and shook her head.
But Danielle liked being here better than any other place on Earth. It was the only place she’d ever felt safe. So even if she wanted to yank that ridiculous butterfly clip from Martha’s scraggly hair sometimes . . . or just for once have the remote control, eat in her bed upstairs, or not be restricted about when she could bathe—some things were worth forgoing. And one thing Danielle knew for sure. Martha would never hit her. She could just tell.
The woman was crabby and a nuisance, but Danielle hoped she wouldn’t send her away.
She jumped when someone knocked at the door, then panic set in. She figured she would spend the rest of her days here worrying that she’d been found. It was bound to happen sooner or later, but when she peeked around the curtain in the living room, she saw a buggy and a horse, so she knew it was one of those Amish people coming to visit Martha. They were as strange as Martha, dressed in their funky clothes and living in houses with no electricity. She’d never seen an Amish person until some of them visited Martha in the hospital. She’d also gone with Martha to Katie Ann’s house a couple of times. Danielle couldn’t believe they lived like that.
“Martha’s not here,” she said when she opened the front door. Then she studied the figure before her. If ever there was a hot Amish guy, he was standing in front of her in his black pants, black coat, and one of those funky black hats.
“That’s okay. Can you give her this?” He held up a brown paper bag, but Danielle was still summing him up. He reminded her of some of the hockey players back home—tall and athletic, although he wasn’t missing any teeth.
“Sure,” she finally said as she accepted the bag.
“I’m Levi Detweiler.” Mr. Handsome extended his hand, and Danielle slowly latched on. “My mom is a friend of Martha’s, and she asked me to bring her this rhubarb jam. I think Martha goes into withdrawal or something if she runs out.” He almost smiled. One side of his mouth curved up, but it was brief.
“You wanna come in?” Danielle paused. “I mean, Martha will probably be back soon, if you want to wait.”
He grimaced a little. “Is anyone else here?”
Danielle felt her heart skip a beat. Why would he ask that? Would he hurt her in some way if she said no one was home? “Uh, no. But I just remembered Martha will be back any minute.”
“I gotta go. Nice to meet you.”
Danielle watched him leave. He was intriguing, almost in a creepy sort of way. He had those weird clothes that soft voice, and his mouth was crooked in a way that made it hard to tell if he was smiling or angry. But she didn’t think she’d ever seen a hotter-looking guy.
“LEVI’S THE QUIET one,” Martha said as she plopped a bag of groceries on the table. “A fine fellow. His brother, Jacob, got married about a year ago, and his sister Emily just got married this past November. I guess Levi’s still looking for his someone special.” She pulled a frozen pizza out of the bag, along with some Fritos and a six-pack of soda, and put them all on the table. “We’re splurging on junk food tonight, but don’t get used to it, missy. I just don’t feel like cooking.”
“I’ll be his someone special,” Danielle said as she pulled the bag of Fritos open. “He’s hot.”
Martha put her hands on her hips. “That is no way for a nice girl to talk, Danielle.”
Danielle chuckled. “You’re kidding me, right? Just yesterday I heard you say the mailman had nice buns.”
“Are you familiar with the expression ‘Do as I say and not as I do’?” She reached up and tightened her butterfly clip.
“Well, the Amish guy sure was cute. Levi. I asked him to come in, but he got kinda weird about it. Then I thought maybe he might be dangerous or something.”
Martha cackled. “Dangerous? Levi? Uh, no. He didn’t come in the house while you were here alone because it wouldn’t be proper.”
“I think Amish people are weird.”
Martha pointed a crooked finger at her. “There will be no talk like that in this house. There’s no finer group of folks.”
Danielle shrugged. “Whatever.”
Martha stared at her for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m going to heat this pizza. Now would be a good time to shower if you want.”
Danielle started to argue that she’d prefer to take a shower closer to bedtime, but the woman had bought pizza, Fritos, and soda for dinner, so she’d go along with her on this. “Okay.” She crossed through the living room toward the stairs, then turned around. “Martha?”
“What?”
Danielle waited until she turned around. “Thanks for letting me stay.”
Martha rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
Danielle grinned as she headed up the stairs.
MARTHA WAITED UNTIL the oven heated up before she popped in the frozen supreme pizza. Arnold was going to the gym in town this evening, something he’d started doing twice a week. He said it helped his arthritis. She’d made it pretty clear that she had no plans to join him in that particular activity. Exercise made her nauseous. Besides, she was hoping maybe she and Danielle could chat a little. It bothered Martha that Danielle had no interest in God. Only once since their stay in the hospital had Martha broached the subject, and the girl turned red and marched upstairs. Danielle seemed angry with God. A few years ago Martha would have let it go. But when Arnold, Emily, and David opened her heart to the Lord, her life had changed. She wanted that for Danielle too.
But one thing she was learning about teenagers—if they think you want them to do something, they will do the exact opposite. So Martha knew she needed to approach the subject carefully. She smiled, recalling how she had to find the Lord in her own time, knowing that everything ultimately happens on God’s timetable.
She’d just shoved a handful of Fritos into her mouth when she heard a car pull up. No one she recognized, and from the looks of it . . . no one she knew. A woman dressed in tan slacks and a dark brown coat held her hand in front of her face to block the light snow flurries. Martha had the door open by the time she was about to knock.
She was an attractive woman, midthirties, Martha guessed. She wasn’t smiling.
“Are you Martha Dobbs?”
Martha gave her a critical squint. “Who wants to know?”
“I’m—I’m looking for someone. I think she might be here. My name’s Vivian Kent.”
Martha raised her chin and eyeballed the woman for a moment. “Who ya looking for?”
Vivian pulled a photograph from her purse. “Have you seen this girl?”
Martha stared at the picture of Danielle. “Who are you to her?”
“I’m her mother.”
Seventeen
MARTHA PULLED THE DOOR WIDE. “COME IN. YES, Danielle is here.” She wasn’t sure what she was most upset about, the fact that the woman might have her arrested for harboring a runaway, or that Danielle had lied to her. “Danielle said her parents were dead.”
Vivian folded her hands in front of her and sighed. “I’m not surprised. We’ve had a lot of trouble with Danielle.”
Martha could believe that. The girl was willful.
“She’s upstairs taking a shower. She should be down in a minute.”
Martha felt a wave of relief. Apparently she hadn’t been called by the Lord to straighten out young Danielle. And she wouldn’t have to worry about her and Arnold taking on parental roles at their ages. What a mess that would have been.
“Can I get you a soda? Some tea?”
Vivian sat down. In Martha’s recliner. Martha fought the urge to ask her to move.
“No, I’m fine. How long has Danielle been here?”
“Oh, a week or two.” Martha scowled. “How long has she been missing?”
“Since the hospital. We traveled here from Wisconsin to visit a friend, and then Danielle ended up in the hospital.” Vivian hung her head and sighed. “When I couldn’t find her, I eventually had to go home.”
“Did you call the police, report her missing?” Martha was sitting on the edge of the couch, hands folded in her lap, wondering how Vivian could have left the state not knowing where her daughter was.
“I—I couldn’t really call the police. Danielle’s been in trouble with the police before.”
“Why does that matter? Someone beat the life out of her.” Martha leaned forward. “Who did that to her?”
Vivian swiped at her eye. “I don’t know. I went out with friends, and when I got back to our hotel room, she—she . . .” The woman folded an arm across her stomach as she looked at the floor.
Martha wasn’t sure what to say, but trouble or no trouble, someone should have called the law.
Vivian straightened. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that Danielle showed up here and bothered you.”
“She’s no bother,” Martha said. “How did you find me, anyway? I mean, I know how Danielle found me. She took an identification card out of my wallet. I was her roommate in the hospital. Hey—I don’t remember seeing you at the hospital.”
“I was there.” Vivian smiled.
Really? “I never saw you.”
Vivian fumbled with a button on her coat. “You—you were sleeping.”
“Oh.” Martha was thinking that if it had been Katie Ann in that predicament, she’d have never left her side. But she sighed, knowing that everyone wasn’t so thoughtful.
“And Danielle eventually called a friend of hers back home and told her where she was. The friend’s mother knew how frantic I was, so she phoned me right away.” Vivian dabbed at her eyes. “All I knew was that Danielle was here in Canaan. I’ve been asking around and showing her picture for two days, and finally someone recognized her—an Amish girl named Beth Ann said she was staying here.”
Martha nodded, then pointed to Vivian’s ring, a big gold thing on her right ring finger. There was a time when Martha used to adore big, clunky jewelry. “Nice ring.”
“Thanks. It was a gift.”
Martha stood up when she heard footsteps heading down the stairs. So did Vivian.
“You’ve got company, Danielle,” Martha said, ready for her lying houseguest to go. What kind of kid says her parents are dead? She shook her head.
“Hi, Dani.”
Vivian didn’t run up to Danielle as Martha expected, and Danielle turned pale as a ghost, her feet rooted to the floor at the bottom of the staircase.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Get whatever things you have here and let’s go. You’ve inconvenienced Martha enough.” Vivian readjusted her purse on her shoulder. “Be quick.”
Danielle turned around and ran upstairs.
“She really wasn’t any trouble.” Martha e
dged toward Vivian.
“I sure hope you can find out who did that to her, and prosecute that”—she took a deep breath—“. . . person.”
Danielle was back, carrying a plastic bag, which Martha assumed contained the two changes of clothes Danielle had brought with her, plus the four outfits that Martha had purchased for her, ones they’d finally agreed on, plus some undergarments.
“Good luck to you, Danielle.” Martha lifted her chin, feeling unappreciated, but still relieved. The unruly teenager lies and breaks into people’s homes.
“Thanks for the clothes.” Danielle’s eyes were locked with Martha’s as she blinked back tears. The girl had to be worried about the trouble she was in for running away, but surely Vivian would let it all go, after everything the child had been through.
“I forgot to ask. Where’s your dad, Danielle?”
“He died. About six years ago.” Vivian bit her bottom lip, then smiled. “So it’s just been Danielle and me since then.”
“Oh.” Martha walked them to the door.
Vivian reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. “I’d like to pay you for any expense or trouble you went to.”
Martha waved a hand in the air. “No, no. Just get Danielle home where she can finish recovering. I still hope you find whoever did this.”
Vivian tucked her wallet back in her purse and smiled. “I just want to get Danielle home.”
“Bye, Danielle.” Martha held the door open for them, but Danielle didn’t look at her. As Martha closed the door, she sighed, then watched them through the window, until a chill ran up and down her spine. There was something about the way Vivian was manhandling Danielle to the car. Martha’s stomach seized up, a pang in her gut that something wasn’t right.
As she watched Vivian dragging Danielle by her arm, the girl stumbled, but Vivian just kept pulling her toward the car.
Martha flung the door wide and stepped onto the porch.
“Vivian, you wait just a minute! Do you hear me?” Martha marched down the snowy porch steps, certain that she could take on Vivian if it came to that.