An Undeniable Secret (Amish Secrets--Book 4)

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An Undeniable Secret (Amish Secrets--Book 4) Page 8

by J. E. B. Spredemann


  Marita peered around the kitchen corner. “Your uncle said he was stepping out for a few minutes, sir.”

  “So, he was home?”

  “Been home all day.”

  This was indeed odd. “Thanks, Marita.”

  As he walked down the hallway toward his bedroom, he noticed something peculiar. Was Uncle George’s office door open? For the entire year-and-a-half since his father passed away and he’d moved in with Uncle George, not once had his uncle’s office door been left open. Strange indeed. He glanced around to see if anyone was lurking nearby.

  Will dashed to his bedroom and tossed his backpack on his bed, then hurried back to Uncle George’s office. He quickly closed the door behind him and moved to his uncle’s desk. He sifted through paper after paper until he noticed one particular document. It was the deed to Sally’s home.

  He carefully read over the words, until his eyes stopped cold on one name. His own. What on earth?

  Now he was really confused.

  He didn’t even notice the door handle twisting. “What are you doing in my office?” alarm clearly marked his uncle’s voice.

  “What is this, Uncle George? Why is my name on this paper?”

  His uncle grimaced. “William, you shouldn’t be in here.”

  Will jerked up from his uncle’s office chair. “Answer my question! Why is my name on these documents?”

  “I guess there’s no sense keeping this from you, as you’re determined to find out at any cost.” Uncle George shrugged, then sighed. “You are the rightful owner of the Troyer property, William.”

  “The rightful own– I don’t understand.” He frowned.

  “Have a seat. This isn’t going to be an easy pill for you to swallow.”

  He crossed his arms and stood his ground. “What do you mean?”

  “The answers you’ve been searching for. Please, William, just sit down.”

  “Did you steal their property?” His voice rose an octave.

  “Steal their property? Of course, not.” Uncle George took a deep breath. “William,” his uncle locked eyes with him and spoke slowly, “Elam Troyer was your biological father.”

  Elam Troyer? It took a few seconds to comprehend his uncle’s words.

  An earthquake couldn’t have shaken him more. This wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. God, this can’t be true.

  “My…father?” He shook his head. “You’re lying! My father is…was Peter Griffith.”

  “I’m sorry, son.”

  “Why would you fabricate all this? Did the Mafia put you up to this?”

  “Mafia?” Uncle George frowned. “William, I don’t think you understand. Those are documents your parents drew up. There is no Mafia involved.”

  Will shook his head in disbelief. “You really do hate Sally, don’t you? I can’t believe you would go to this length just to keep us apart!”

  “William, I am telling you the truth, as God as my witness. Your mother was married to Elam Troyer before she met your adoptive father. It didn’t work out between them. I don’t think she ever told Elam about you.”

  Will felt as though a large vacuum had sucked all of the air out of the room. “Why should I believe you? How can I believe this is true?”

  “Because it is.” Uncle George shrugged. “Denying this is not going to make it any easier for you, William.”

  “So, if this is true, that means that Sally is my…my sister?” William swallowed and felt the bile rising in his throat. He suddenly felt sick. He rushed to the restroom and emptied what little contents were in his stomach. No! I cannot be in love with my sister!

  “William, are you all right?” his uncle called from the other side of the bathroom door.

  “No, I’m not all right! I’m in love with my sister! So, now what? What are Sally and I supposed to do?” Great! I finally find someone I want to spend the rest of my life with and now this? How is this fair, God? Was this some sort of generational curse? None of this made any sense at all. “This is just a nightmare, right? None of this is true. It can’t be.”

  “I’m sorry, William, but it is all true. Saloma Troyer would be…is…your half-sister.”

  William stepped out from the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He still felt weak, so he sank down onto the library’s couch. “Did you know this the entire time? Is this why you were so against me dating Sally?”

  “No, I wasn’t aware of the fact until a colleague brought the case to my attention. That’s when I realized that your girlfriend’s troubles were one and the same. I realized right away the gravity of the situation and the potential danger you were in. That’s why I sent Saloma Troyer away.”

  “So it wasn’t the Mafia! You sent her away.”

  “What choice did I have?” He shook his head. “And where on earth did this whole Mafia thing come from?”

  “Never mind,” Will mumbled.

  He stared at his uncle and swallowed hard. “So, does she…does she know?”

  “I’m afraid so. That’s why she agreed to move away.” Uncle George sighed again. “I’m sorry, William. Now you can see why I’m not too keen on the Amish.”

  “What do you mean? What did Sally ever do to you?”

  “Not her. Elam Troyer. You don’t understand how devastating it was for your mother when your biological father left. She cried every day for weeks. I don’t think any of us knew how to comfort her. I certainly didn’t. She didn’t realize that she was pregnant with you at the time; otherwise, I’m sure she would have begged him to stay.”

  Will stared at his hands. “Why did he leave?”

  “I have some of your mother’s belongings. I suppose this would be an appropriate time to give them to you.” He walked into his office, removed a key from his top desk drawer, and opened up a locked mahogany filing cabinet. He pulled out a thick folder and handed it to Will. “I think this might explain things a little better.”

  Will took the file folder, but didn’t dare look inside. No, he wasn’t ready yet. He needed time to process the blow he’d just been dealt.

  If what Uncle George was saying was indeed true, then his whole life would change. Not only would Sally be his sister, but he’d have seven other sisters and a stepmother – all Amish. The thought was dizzying and, in a way, a little fascinating. He’d pretty much grown up as an only child, so the thought of having siblings intrigued him.

  Just not Sally. Why, of all the people in the world, did it have to be Sally?

  Could he ever see Sally as a sister after their intimate relationship? Now, he was so thankful they’d never gone beyond much more than kissing. And even that thought was disturbing, in light of their incomprehensible reality. How would he be able to get her out of his mind and heart? How would he ever be able to see her as just a sister?

  Sally was absolutely right. Their situation was truly impossible.

  Chapter 17

  “I’m curious about something, Uncle George. How did my father’s will come about? I mean, that’s not usually something the Amish do, is it?”

  “Some do, some don’t. Kind of like the Englisch.” He shrugged. “I was already studying law at the time, and I suggested it. I had a friend draw it up for them, although I didn’t know what it all entailed at the time. It seemed pretty standard, though. Each one agreed to leave their worldly possessions to the other. Your mother eventually changed hers to include Peter instead.”

  “But Elam – my father – never did?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Do you think it’s wrong that he didn’t change it? His possessions should rightly go to his Amish family, not me.”

  “I think he should have included them, yes. But, as a man, he should be responsible for all his offspring. Under normal circumstances, the property would most likely be sold, and the sale of the estate would be divided among the deceased’s survivors. Since the will was between your parents, the will only pertains to you. You have the legal right to possess the property, if that is what you wi
sh to do.”

  “I could never make them leave their home. I mean, they’re my actual family. I have Amish family,” Will said more to himself than his uncle. He shook his head. “This is all so strange.”

  “Indeed.”

  “So, what happens now?”

  “That depends on you. They have a temporary lease on the property.”

  “We’re making them lease? But–”

  “As Executor of your mother and father’s estate, I had to do what I felt was in your best interest. Don’t worry, they’re not paying a lot. When you turn twenty-five, you may do with the property as you wish. I hope that you won’t do anything without first talking to a financial advisor about all your options.”

  “What options?”

  “You could continue leasing the property to the Troyers.”

  Will began to protest, but his uncle continued.

  “Now, don’t say anything until you hear me out. Listen, William. I know they’re your family and you want to do right by them, but there’s a good chance the Troyers might not want to have anything to do with you. After all, you are a son from a previous marriage that – I’m not certain about this – but, according to my colleague, they knew nothing about. They might not even believe you are who we say you are. They might think you’re just someone out to steal their property and take advantage of them. Not to mention, you’re an Englischer. We have to approach this situation with caution.”

  Will had never considered that they might not want him around. Uncle George had a valid point.

  “Your other options would be to move into the place yourself, rent it out, or sell it.”

  “But what about Sally’s family, my family? I’m not just going to kick them out.”

  “We can help them relocate.”

  “How will they be able to afford land out here? It costs a fortune. I couldn’t do that to them.”

  “William, I realize that you desire what’s best for them, but you need to look out for your own interests as well. Think about it. Your father prepared the will because he wanted to be sure to provide for you.”

  “I thought you said he didn’t know about me.”

  “True. But when he signed those papers, he was married to your mother. He knew very well that there was a good possibility they would have children someday. The will states that his possessions will go to his spouse, which is your mother, and any surviving children produced by their union. He wanted to provide for you.”

  Will shook his head. “I know my legal rights, but I have to do what I feel is morally right. The fair thing would be dividing it up so that everyone gets a share, but I can’t do that right now. I can’t evict my family from their home.”

  Uncle George sighed. “I can’t force your hand, William, but just consider how things might be ten years from now. You could be married and have a family of your own. Owning a nice farm might be something of interest to you. By then, the youngest siblings will have married and moved out. Who knows, your stepmother could remarry some widower and have more children. Then he would possess the home. It could cause even more problems down the road. I think you should take your chance while you have it. It’ll be hard on them at first, but they’ll adjust.”

  “I won’t do that. I’d rather lose the house than kick them out onto the streets. For crying out loud, they just lost their father and husband! I couldn’t do that to them.”

  “I understand. You don’t need to do anything now. I think it would be in your best interest to continue with the lease agreement we’ve already made, then we can determine where you’d like to go from there. Does that suit you?”

  Will nodded. “That’s fine, I guess.”

  Chapter 18

  George stared at the documents on his office desk. The task at hand would not be pleasant. As a matter of fact, he’d been putting it off for far too long, but he could put it off no longer. He would visit Elam Troyer’s widow today.

  When he sent Saloma away, he’d hoped he wouldn’t ever need to return to that wretched farm. It conjured up too many unpleasant memories. A brisk wind blew leaves across the road and, with it, the last twenty-four years seemed to erase. His expensive luxury vehicle disappeared, and he was back in his pickup truck once again.

  George stared over at Elam, who sat across the bench seat. A gentle breeze danced through the open windows and into the cab. “Do you know what you’re doing, Elam?”

  “Jah. I’m going home.”

  “No, you’re not. Your home is with my sister – your wife!” George frowned at his one-time friend.

  Elam stayed silent and that only caused George’s blood to boil more.

  “You’re a coward, running back home to Mommy and Daddy.”

  Elam looked away. “You’re Englisch; you can’t understand.”

  “You’re right, Elam. I can’t understand why in the world you would want to leave your wife. Don’t your people read the Good Book? Did you miss the part that says ‘what God hath joined together, let man not put asunder’? Did you not read the passage where God says He hates divorce? How about the part that says ‘Husbands, love your wives’?”

  “Bishop Mast says worldly vows don’t mean anything. They’re not bound by the church. It’s only the vows we make to the church that we have to keep.”

  “That’s ridiculous! So you’re telling me that you were lying through your teeth when you stood at the altar and married my sister? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “No. I married your sister because I thought I loved her.”

  “You thought you loved her?” If George hadn’t been driving, he certainly would have knocked Elam into next Tuesday. “You have another woman, don’t you? That’s why you’re leaving my sister, isn’t it?”

  “No, never!”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Elam shrugged.

  “You’re despicable. You and all your kind. Don’t you ever show your face around my sister again. You don’t deserve her anyhow.”

  “I don’t plan to.”

  “What is wrong with you people? You think that just because you’re Amish you have some special connection to God? That you can just make up your own rules and ignore what He says in His Word? Well, that’s where you’re wrong. You people are about the furthest from God there is. A horse and buggy and plain clothes never saved anybody and never will. And it certainly doesn’t make you live right.” George wished that he could go back and erase the previous year for his sister’s sake, and save her from a broken heart, but he knew that was impossible. Never in his life would he ever trust another Amish person again.

  George had a whole lot more he could say, but what good would it do? Elam’s mind had been made up. Both George and Elam stayed silent for the remainder of the ride to his parents’ home.

  George snapped out of his reverie and realized where he was. This home. Which was now the home of the woman Elam had left my sister for.

  <><><>

  Will had been standing in front of the mirror for the last thirty minutes. Maybe he was not the best person to judge, but, by his estimation, he hadn’t received one drop of Troyer blood. It might be easier to see Sally as a sister if they looked alike just a little bit, but he just couldn’t see it.

  He glanced down at his watch and realized that if he didn’t take a shower soon, he would be late for his psychology class. Now that he knew the Mafia wasn’t after him, and he’d learned the actual truth about Sally, maybe he’d be able to get through the rest of this semester and earn his degree.

  Although he had a bazillion questions, he still hadn’t plunged into his mother’s belongings. That could wait. Life was too emotionally hectic right now for him to concentrate on too many things at once. And that meant focusing on school.

  Now, if he could just get Sally out of his head…

  <><><>

  With heavy hand and heart, George knocked on the door of the now-deceased Elam Troyer’s home. Commotion from inside the home and a small face peering out
the window indicated someone was present. George wiped his perspiring hands on the handkerchief inside his sport coat pocket.

  The door slowly creaked open and a cautious woman stood, sober and silent. She nodded her greeting.

  He must retain his professional demeanor, in spite of the animosity he felt. “Hello, ma’am. I’m George Anderson, Attorney at Law. I’m here to discuss the terms of your late husband’s last will and testament.”

  The downtrodden woman nodded and eyed him curiously. “You are the one who came and spoke with Saloma.”

  “That’s right, ma’am.” He nodded. “And your name is?”

  “Rosemary Troyer.” She gestured to two hickory rocking chairs. “Would you like to sit on the porch?”

  “Certainly, Rosemary.” George hadn’t expected the woman to let him into the home with no man around. That wasn’t the Amish way.

  She spoke a few words in Pennsylvania Dutch to two of her daughters, apparently in their teens. The girls nodded to their mother, then disappeared in haste.

  George leveled his gaze at the woman. “I won’t beat around the bush, Ms. Troyer. As you know, Elam Troyer left a will bequeathing all his earthly possessions, including this property, to his first wife and any offspring procreated by the two of them.”

  Rosemary nodded.

  “This house and the property it sits on belongs to William Griffith, my nephew. William would also be your stepson.”

  “My…son?”

  “By marriage, legally speaking. He is Elam Troyer’s biological son.”

  “Then it is right that the property should go to his only son.” Rosemary’s countenance filled with anguish, and moisture gathered in her eyes. She quickly pulled a handkerchief from her apron pocket and dabbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. My husband…he…this was all a surprise to our family. I never knew he’d had another wife.”

  His colleague had been correct. “You were unaware that Elam was previously married?” George shook his head. How could Elam have been so insensitive? “He didn’t even mention he’d been divorced?”

 

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