“Night, Will,” Nan said. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
“Danke. Have a good sleep.”
She smiled. “You, too,” she said as she entered her room..
Will and Jake walked a little farther down the hall. Will’s room was next. At the far end of the hall was Jake’s room.
Jake stopped Will as he was about to go in. “Hey, Will, why do you think God made you do all that tonight?”
Taking a minute, he gave some thought to his brother’s question. The answer came to him immediately. Not as a flash, but as a certainty—an answer he knew that the Lord had supplied. “Because He knew I would help, I reckon. I think our Lord knew I would do my best for Him.”
Jake smiled. “I like that idea.”
“Jah. I do, too.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m real proud of you. Night,” he added quickly.
Will watched his brother walk down the hall before replying.
“Danke.”
After he walked into his room and shut the door behind him, he sat down on his bed and closed his eyes. Allowed himself to remember how worried he’d been about E.A. during their run toward Marta and her husband. How proud he’d been of E.A., John, and Marie as they’d all stepped up to help a woman they didn’t know.
Then, finally, he allowed himself to remember his favorite part of the whole day and evening … when he’d told Elizabeth Anne that he loved her and she told him that she loved him, too.
Yes, that was the best moment of all.
THIRTY−SEVEN
“Just like the Lord does. We protect each other and He protects us.”
A week had passed since Marta left the fairgrounds in the back of an ambulance: a crazy, stressful, amazing, and exhausting week. First, she’d been taken to the main sheriff’s office. There, a victim’s advocate had met with her along with the sheriff and one of the deputies, who brought her a cheeseburger and fries. They’d sat by Marta’s side as she ate her meal with shaking hands and told her story.
Admitting the abuse she’d experienced for years had felt both empowering and embarrassing. She was a smart woman who’d been raised by good people. She’d had lots of friends and had even completed two years of college. She’d also been involved in her church and considered herself to have a strong faith.
If she was all of those things, how could she have put up with so much abuse for so long?
She wasn’t sure what the answer was to that question, only that she had a feeling she was going to ask it of herself many times over the next few months.
Luckily, in the midst of all her self-recriminations, she’d also felt the warm rays of compassion. The victim’s advocate had shaken off her doubts and guilt, and both of the law enforcement officers had shaken their heads whenever she tried to take some of the blame. The sheriff had even gone so far to say that if she took any of the responsibility, it would only give Alan more power over her.
That had been a hard lump to swallow, but it had also given her a measure of peace that she hadn’t even known she needed. They were right: even though she had been strong, Alan had damaged her. He’d been able to convince her to take the blame for her abuse.
That was something she was going to need to stop.
After the difficult conversation, she’d been examined by a nurse and had pictures taken of her bruises. At first Marta hadn’t wanted to put herself in such a vulnerable state, but when they’d explained that they would need as much proof as possible in order to press charges, she’d reluctantly agreed.
She couldn’t say that the hospital visit had been easy, but when it was over, she reminded herself that it was something else that she’d been strong enough to do. Stronger than she imagined, certainly.
After the hospital visit—and the news that a restraining order against Alan had been issued—the social worker had taken her to a safe house for battered women. She’d been given a room, a pair of pajamas and a change of clothes, and told to rest. And boy, had she! Marta was fairly sure she’d slept most of the first two days she’d been there.
Now she was soon going to leave. At the urging of the women in the shelter, Marta had reached out to her parents and told them what had happened and what she’d been through. She’d been so embarrassed at first. And, yes, secretly afraid that they would be upset with her for losing touch with them.
But instead they’d reminded her of their love for her and said that they would arrive there the next day to drive her home. She was going to go home for the first time in years and heal.
Now, just a few hours before their arrival, Marta was receiving another visitor. Officer Fuller had arrived at the shelter with a shopping bag of items from her house and Marta’s favorite treat: a latte.
Marta hugged her hello, thanking Jesus once again for bringing so many angels into her life.
“Are you excited to see your parents, Marta?” Officer Fuller asked as she handed Marta the coffee.
“Yes. I mean, I think so.”
“You aren’t sure?”
Realizing that Officer Fuller hadn’t been in the room when she’d shared how she’d steadily distanced herself from her parents, Marta said, “The worse things got with Alan, the less I wanted them to know about my life. I was so ashamed, I kept a lot of secrets.” She stopped, dreading the idea of seeing a look of recrimination or hearing a barrage of questions she wasn’t ready to answer.
But instead of any of that, Officer Fuller simply nodded. “I can see how you might have wanted that.”
Feeling relieved by the easy acceptance, Marta continued, “After I got here and realized that I was finally safe, I knew I needed to reach out to them.”
“So you gave them a call.”
Marta nodded. “I’m not going to lie. Those first couple of minutes were awkward and felt scary. But before I knew it, everything was just how it used to be with us: comfortable.”
Officer Fuller reached out and clasped her hand. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.” Marta smiled at her. Then, seeing a look of resolve in her eyes in addition to the warmth that had been shining there, she added, “You didn’t just come here to bring me a coffee and wish me well, did you?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I have some news.”
“Okay …” Marta set her cup down.
Officer Fuller uncrossed her legs and leaned slightly forward. “So, Alan is home,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “He got a lawyer, of course. And the lawyer discussed the restraining order with him.”
“Do you think he’s going to ignore it?”
Officer Fuller sighed. “Marta, I want to be truthful with you.”
“Good, because I want the truth.”
“All right then. Here’s the thing. Unfortunately, I’ve met several abusers and stalkers over years.”
“And?”
“And the majority do stay away. The consequences of ignoring a restraining order are serious. Alan would be a fool to think he’s above the law, and he doesn’t come across as a fool to me.”
“He’s not.” But would he think he was above the law? She had a feeling that where she was concerned, that was a yes. Making herself tamp down the rush of fear that was threatening to overcome her, Marta looked the police officer directly in the eye. “Is there anything else?”
“He’s pretty angry, Marta.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“Me, neither.” She smiled at Marta before continuing. “Alan thinks you betrayed him. When the officers stopped by your house to get a couple of your things, it was obvious that he’d been searching through everything. We made sure to tell him that he had no right to be rummaging through your things.”
Just imagining Alan hearing such a thing made Marta grimace. “I bet he didn’t care to hear that.”
“Not at all. He’s even tried to say that you stole money from him.”
“I did take some money, but it was only a thousand dollars that I scrimped together over a year.” She pro
mised herself she wouldn’t cry anymore. Not for him.
Officer Fuller’s expression hardened. “Don’t you start overthinking any of this. You did what you had to do. Not a bit of it was wrong.”
“What did the sheriff say?”
“What you would think he would: he told your husband to stop acting so ridiculous.”
Marta knew her eyes had widened, but she could hardly believe it. “Wow.”
“I’m telling you all of this not to scare you, but to let you know that it’s happening. Also, to share that though you have a court-appointed lawyer, you might see if your parents can help you find a good divorce lawyer.”
“You think I need one?”
“Absolutely.” Her voice hardened. “Your husband has already arranged for legal counsel. Marta, you need someone who is willing and able to make sure your ex doesn’t hurt you again. And who is going to make sure you are taken care of.”
“All right.”
“All right? You sure?”
She was asking if Marta was willing to stay strong. “I’m sure.”
“Good. I’m relieved to hear that.” Officer Fuller smiled as she stood up. “Now, you already have my card and my contact information. I expect you to use it and keep in touch.”
“I will. Thank you for everything.” Just as they shook hands, she realized that they hadn’t talked about the person to whom Marta owed the greatest amount of thanks. “I want to thank E.A. and her friends, but I’m afraid if I show up at the sewing shop I could put her in danger.” She’d already told Officer Fuller about what a good friend E.A. had been to her.
“I don’t want you going anywhere near Walnut Creek just yet. Why don’t you do this: when you are ready, write her a letter. I’ll pass it on. I’m sure E.A. will understand.”
“All right. Yes. I’ll do that.” Realizing that it would be so nice to have that letter written, Marta asked, “Could I possibly write it now?”
“Of course. Take your time.”
Feeling sure of herself for the first time during the conversation, Marta ran to her room and retrieved a pad of paper, pen, and an envelope. After seeing that the other woman had taken a seat and was focused on her cell phone, Marta sat down, took a deep breath, and thanked E.A. for everything she’d done. Marta kept the note short—after all, there was no way she could adequately convey how much she appreciated the girl’s friendship. However, she was pleased to have taken the opportunity to do something for her.
When she was done at last, she sealed the letter, then also pulled out the small bookmark she’d hand-stitched over the last week. “Here you go, Officer. Here is E.A.’s note … and this is for you.”
Looking visibly moved, Officer Fuller ran a finger along the stitching on the bookmark. “Did you make this?”
“I did. The folks here at the shelter have a box of donated clothes for the women who stay here. A lot of the things are real pretty, but there was a shirt that was in such poor shape I knew no one would be able to wear it. Charlotte, the lady who runs the house, said I could do whatever I wanted with it.”
“This is beautiful.” Officer Fuller’s voice was filled with wonder.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it beautiful …”
“I would. It’s lovely. I’m very touched. Thank you so much.”
“You’re very welcome, though it’s not a fair exchange for everything you’ve done for me.”
“No thanks was needed. Helping women like you is why I became a police officer. I’m glad you are okay.”
After Officer Fuller left, Marta went back up to her room and sat down next to the window to watch the police officer leave in her cruiser.
She knew that in less than an hour, she would see her parents again and she’d be heading back to southern Ohio.
She realized then that if she had her way, she’d never be in Walnut Creek again. She’d like to put it and her life there behind her.
Hopefully, it would actually be possible.
Feeling restless, she picked up the scraps of fabric from the discarded shirt and decided to make another bookmark or two. One she would give to her social worker and the other? Well, she might just do some thinking about what she could do with this new hobby.
Maybe she was going to be just fine, after all.
THIRTY−EIGHT
“So, that’s our story for Marie. One night, we proved that she meant so much to us that we’d do just about anything to help her,” E.A. finished. “Because we love you, Marie.”
“You didn’t have to walk over here, Will,” Elizabeth Anne said.
“I walked over here so you wouldn’t have to drive in the opposite direction to pick me up.”
E.A. smiled. “It isn’t that far.”
“You can drop me off later. Don’t worry.”
This wasn’t the first time that they’d seen each other since “the big rescue,” as Marie liked to call it, but it was the first time they were going to be around their entire group of friends as a couple.
“How was work today?” Will asked as she headed toward the Loyal Inn, Katie and Harley’s B and B.
“Work?” She shrugged. “It was okay.”
“Just okay?”
She shrugged again. “To be honest, I thought I would feel different after everything that happened with Marta. But instead, I just feel empty.” She wasn’t sure if it was because she was coming to terms with how ignorant she’d been of Marta’s desperate situation or if it was because she had lost someone she was just getting to know.
Will’s brown eyes were full of compassion, but maybe a little bit of confusion, too. “I don’t exactly understand.”
“I don’t know if I do, either.” Trying to figure out how to explain herself without rambling, E.A. drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “Will, you know that I’ve felt like I was in a dead-end job.”
He nodded. “And I remember that you aren’t exactly fond of your manager, either.”
“That’s true. And things with Lark haven’t gotten better. She and I still butt heads.” She sighed.
“Are you trying to say that you want to look for another job?”
She shook her head. “No. I really just want to feel something more, you know? See, for a while, when I was helping Marta, I felt like I was at the sewing shop for a reason. Like I was doing something more than just selling fabric.”
“Maybe you ought to look into teaching more students. Teaching sewing could be your calling. It’s got to be a lot different from simply ringing up customers.”
She loved how he was taking her concerns seriously. “I’ve thought about that, too. But now I’m starting to think that maybe teaching sewing itself wasn’t what got me excited at all.” She slowed down and turned on her blinker. They were almost at Katie and Harley’s house.
“What do you think it was?”
“I liked helping people, Will. No, I liked being needed,” she corrected. “For a while there, I knew Marta was hurting and struggling with something. And I knew that she was depending on me to help her get through it.”
“You know she was. If not for you, her plan might not have happened.”
“I’d like to think even if I wasn’t there, Marta could have done what she did.” She shook her head. “So, I liked helping a battered woman become stronger and help herself. But what do I do now?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t know, either. I’m not trained to help women in abusive situations, and it’s not like I’m suddenly going to be able to start helping them by teaching them how to sew pillowcases.”
“You might, though. Women might be taking classes for other reasons. You never know.” After a pause, he added, “E.A., think about all that we’ve been through these last couple of months. Andy’s death hit us hard, some of our best friends moved back to town, others have gotten married … Why, even me trying to figure out my promotion had its challenges.”
“And, we can’t forget David.”
“No, we sure can’t
,” he said with a laugh. “It’s a huge blessing that he finally decided to leave you alone.”
“His daed told my daed that David didn’t trust anyone who would speak to the police like I did at the fair.”
Will smirked. “He’s such a jerk.” Looking earnest again, he softened his voice. “What I’m trying to tell you is that all of us have been privately going through some difficult times that we’ve kept to ourselves. I can’t tell you the number of times I told people at work that I was ‘fine’ when I was still mourning Andy’s loss. If you continue with your classes, you might be helping your students in more than just one way.”
A lot of what he said made sense. Remembering the note Marta had sent her, she said, “Marta said in her note that she was staying at a women’s shelter. Maybe someone at the police department could tell me about that place and I could volunteer to help some of them.”
“I think that would be a wonderful idea.”
As she parked the car, E.A. said, “Will, you always seem to know how to make me see things clearer.”
“I think you’ve always seen things fairly clearly. All I do is help you get rid of some of the fog,” he said just as a horse and buggy drove up behind them. “Look at that. Logan and Tricia are here.”
It still caught her off guard. A few months before Andy passed away, his sister and Logan got together. Their relationship had its own special circumstances, least of all being the fact that Andy wasn’t very happy about one of his best friends dating his little sister. But that worry paled next to the fact that Logan had been baptized and didn’t want to leave the Amish faith. That meant Tricia had to make the decision to become Amish.
And, to the surprise of a lot of people, she had. She’d immersed herself in studies, both of Pennsylvania Dutch and their faith and way of life. Little by little, she’d eased into it, and Logan’s family and friends began to see that she was earnest and ultimately supported their union.
Just a month after Marie and John married, Tricia and Logan had married as well. Now, E.A. reckoned anyone who met Tricia would be surprised to discover that she hadn’t grown up in the faith.
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