The Hope

by Patricia Davids

  Owen nodded but didn’t reply and went into the house. Ruth was waiting. She sprang up from her chair in the living room and hurried toward him. “Grace is sleeping. Is it true? Did they find her?”

  He walked over to the chair his uncle preferred and sat down. “It’s true that she has been found. The unbelievable thing is that Grace’s mother is my sister Rebecca.” He still couldn’t grasp that she was gone.

  Ruth pressed her hands over her heart. “Owen, I’m so very sorry. She must’ve been on her way to visit you. There’s no other reason for her to be here, is there?”

  “I did leave her Ernest’s address, so perhaps she was coming here to see him. But why? Why seek him out after all this time?”

  Ruth sat down beside him. “You didn’t know she had a child?”

  He shook his head. “She never mentioned it, but our conversation wasn’t that long. I didn’t see the child with her when I met her.”

  “We will contact the bishop tomorrow about the funeral.”

  “We may not be able to hold one soon. The sheriff was with me. He says that my sister died of a gunshot wound.”

  Ruth’s eyes flew wide. “Gunshot? Does he think it was an accident?”

  “He said the car was a crime scene and that the coroner would take care of her body. I won’t be allowed to stay with her.”

  “What are we going to tell Grace?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me what to say.” He needed her help.

  * * *

  RUTH SAW THE look of pleading in his eyes and she had to do all she could for him. “I think what you say must come from your heart. There is no way you can prepare for such a conversation. She will be heartbroken, but she has to know.”

  He closed his eyes. “At least we know where she belongs now.”

  “You are her nearest relative until we find her father.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. What if he was the one Rebecca was afraid of?”

  “Unless Grace can tell us, we may never know.”

  He looked at the ceiling overhead. “I think I will go sit with Grace until the sheriff comes.”

  “Of course. I should let those who worked so hard to find her know about this. I will go see the bishop and make some calls. I’m sure people will begin coming by as soon as they hear. Would you and Grace like to stay here tonight?”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I think we would rather be alone for a while.”

  She smiled sadly. “I understand. Go ahead and sit with Grace. I will come get you if you are needed.”

  She watched him climb the stairs with slow, almost painful steps. She grabbed her shawl and headed toward the phone shack. She needed to let her family know. She had the number for her father’s business and one of his Englisch neighbors. She hated to see Ella and Zack cut short their wedding trip, but she knew Ella, Faron and Ernest would want to return. They might not have known Rebecca, but they would want to support Owen. She wanted to ease Owen and Grace’s pain but nothing she could do would truly help. Grief had to be endured.

  * * *

  OWEN STEPPED INTO the bedroom and saw Grace wasn’t asleep. She sat up in bed. “Did you find the lost sheep?”

  His eyes filled with tears. For a second he couldn’t speak. He nodded and swallowed against the tightness in his throat as he sat in the rocker beside the bed. “I found her.”

  Grace crawled out of bed. “Are you crying?”

  He straightened her kapp. “I am. Something very sad has happened. I have to tell you about it.”

  “Okay,” she said in a tiny worried voice.

  He lifted her onto his lap. “First I will tell you some good news. I found out that I’m your onkel. We’re related. That means I can take care of you for always. Now, you will have to be brave. Can you do that?”

  She nodded. He stroked her cheek. “We found your mother, Grace, but she won’t be coming to take you home.”

  “Why not?”

  “Remember when you told me your mother was sleeping?” Grace nodded. He drew a deep breath and pulled her close to ease the ache in his heart, but it only hurt worse. “She wasn’t sleeping, honey. She has gone to be with Gott.”

  “Won’t she come get me after she sees him?”

  “Nee, she can’t. Your mother is dead, Grace. Do you know what that means?”

  She grasped the ribbons of her head covering and began to wind them together. Her lower lip trembled. “I had a kitten that died. We buried her in the garden.” Tears began trickling down her cheeks. “Are you going to do that to Mamm? I don’t want her to be in the ground.”

  His heart broke into small pieces at her words. How could he make her understand? “I know you will miss her, but she is with Gott. She doesn’t feel any pain. She will never be cold or tired or frightened. She will always be watching over you.”

  Grace pulled back and hit his chest with her fists. “She’s not dead. She’s sleeping. Don’t lie to me.” Her voice broke as she threw her arms around his neck and began sobbing.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.” Tears coursed down his cheeks as he began to rock her. His heart was breaking from the weight of her sorrow. Why had God allowed this? When Grace had cried herself out, she remained in his arms, limp and exhausted. “Will you take me home now, Onkel? I want to go home. Please?”

  “Ja, I will take you home—as soon as I know where your home is.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise, liebchen. I will take you home as soon as I can.”

  Owen spent the rest of the afternoon with Grace. He had told Ruth he wanted to be alone but that wasn’t the truth. Ruth’s presence was comforting even if she wasn’t in the room with them. He knew she was steps away waiting and wanting to help. She brought them up something to eat but Grace refused it. Owen couldn’t blame her. His appetite was flat, as well. Grace clung to him and wouldn’t go to sleep until he finished the song she liked so well three times. When she finally drifted off, he sat in the rocker, watching her sleep and wondering why he had let the chance to be a father slip away.

  He was forty-three, late in life to be starting a family. Especially since he didn’t have a mother in mind for the children. It didn’t seem right to let Grace grow up without a family around her. Without a mother. She would need someone to help her grow into womanhood.

  His driving desire to find his sister had prevented him from having a life of his own. He couldn’t see that at the time, but he saw it now. His need to reunite what was left of his family had stopped him from marrying and having children of his own. It was useless to blame his aunt. She had never married. Rebecca must have seemed like a gift from God to her. A child to cherish, raise and love. If she had only expressed those things, he might have been able to accept Rebecca staying with her. Instead, his aunt’s fear had left him to wonder for years what had happened to his sister.

  Now Rebecca was dead, and he would never have the chance to learn the stories and experiences of her life. Had she been happy growing up? Did she have a pony like the one Grace spoke about? Was her faith strong? Had she trusted in the Lord? Who was the man she had married? He couldn’t even be sure she had married.

  This time spent with Ruth and Grace was certainly making him rethink his decision in the past. There was nothing to say that Ruth would’ve preferred him over Nathan if he had stayed in Cedar Grove. He and Ruth had been teenagers just beginning to look for a potential spouse when he’d left. They might have found that they didn’t suit each other after a few more evenings together. He liked to think he had been in love with her, but the emotions of an eighteen-year-old boy were different from the emotions of a man past forty.

  He had grown to care deeply for Ruth in the past weeks, but he wouldn’t allow himself to fall in love with her. She had already told him there would never be a place for him at her side. Owen saw nothing but heartache i
n store for him if he remained in Cedar Grove. Loving someone who couldn’t love him in return was a poor way for him to spend more years of a life that had already seen too much time wasted. It could be that he was never meant to fall in love and marry, but maybe it was time he started looking for someone to love since he no longer had to look for his sister.

  Grace was his niece, and he already loved the child. Ruth once asked him if he had room in his life for a child. Raising Grace alone would require him to be both mother and father to the girl. It was an enormous task and one he wasn’t sure he was ready for. And there remained the unknown question of her father. Did she already have someone who would love and cherish her? Or was he the one Rebecca feared?

  He glanced at the sleeping child. What did he do now?

  The soft knock at the door made him look up. Ruth peeked in. “The sheriff is here to see you. I will sit with her if you’d like.”

  “That would be nice. Did the sheriff say anything more about how Rebecca died?”

  “He didn’t mention it. He did say he will need to question Grace again. I told him not tonight and he agreed.”

  Owen rose from the chair, feeling old and stiff in every joint. It was as though grief had aged him a hundred years in a few hours. “I appreciate you looking after her, Ruth.”

  She laid a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Caring for one another is what friends do. I’m sorry for your loss and for the grief you and Grace must endure.”

  “You have been a very good friend to both Grace and me. I thank you for that.”

  Downstairs he found Sheriff McIntyre at the kitchen table. He had a pen and tablet in front of him and was writing something down. Owen took a seat across from him. “What have you learned?”

  “It appears that your sister was shot in the abdomen. The bullet went through the car door first. We will know more after the autopsy. You said you had been trying to track down your sister for a long time and you found her several months ago. Is that correct?”

  Owen nodded. He relayed the story of how he and Rebecca had been separated and how he had spent years trying to locate her.

  “Do you know why your sister might have been in this area?”

  “When I found her, she was working in a small town in Indiana with a fairly large Amish community. I gave her Ernest’s and Ruth’s addresses in case she ever wanted to get in touch with more family.”

  “Do you own a gun?”

  “Nee, not even one for hunting.”

  “Does Ernest own a gun? Does he have one at the house where you are staying?”

  “Ernest loves to fish not hunt. He may own a gun, but I have never seen it.”

  “I am going to get a search warrant to look for one.”

  The implication of what he was saying finally sank in. Owen looked at him in shock. “Do you think I killed my sister?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE SHERIFF DIDN’T blink as he stared at Owen. “Did you kill her?”

  Outrage replaced Owen’s shock. “Nee, how can you think such a thing?”

  “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I dismissed someone as a suspect simply because I find him likable. The car was reported stolen by an elderly couple in St. Louis, Missouri, four weeks ago. Where were you before you came to Cedar Grove?”

  “I was in Shipshewana, Indiana.”

  “Who can vouch for when and how you left?”

  “Several people.”

  “Good. I’d like their names.” The sheriff handed him a pen and slip of paper.

  Owen wrote out the names of his boss and a coworker. Was he going to go to jail?

  The sheriff got to his feet and gathered up his notes. “I’d advise you not to leave the area. I intend to get to the bottom of this and find out why your sister—if she is your sister—was here when you claim you didn’t know she was coming. The fact that you didn’t know she had a child is troubling, too. Maybe Grace isn’t her daughter. DNA will answer that question, but I have more. I want to see you at the station the day after tomorrow. Make it early afternoon.”

  “My sister wrote to me a few months ago. She said she was coming to see me in Shipshewana on April 15. She also said she was in trouble and asked me not to tell anyone.” His throat tightened. The note was the only connection he had to Rebecca besides Grace. He wasn’t sure why he mentioned it now.

  “Do you still have the letter?”

  “In my coat pocket.”

  “I’ll need to see it.”

  Owen got it for him. The sheriff held it by one corner and slipped it into a plastic bag he had produced from a pouch on his belt. “Do you know what kind of trouble she was in?”

  “I don’t. When will you bring my sister’s body back?”

  “That’s up to the coroner. When he has finished his examination and issued a report, the body is usually released to the family.” He went out the door, leaving Owen reeling in disbelief.

  The bishop came in just as the sheriff went out. Bishop Weaver had his mother with him. He tipped his hat to the sheriff, but McIntyre didn’t seem to notice as he walked by. Bishop Weaver came directly to Owen. “I’m sorry for your loss, Owen. May Gott bring you comfort.”

  “We should pray that the Lord reveals the truth. The sheriff seems to think I killed my sister.”

  “What? Has he said this?” Ruth was halfway down the stairs. Her shock echoed Owen’s own.

  “He asked me point-blank.”

  Granny Weaver banged her cane on the floor. “That’s horrible.”

  Ruth stood beside Owen. “Perhaps we should visit Joshua King and ask him what he knows about a situation like this. He’s had dealings with the Englisch law in the past.”

  “That is a fine idea, Ruth.” Bishop Weaver looked to Owen. “Would you like me to conduct the funeral service?”

  “Ja. I’m not sure when we will have Rebecca returned to us. I will let you know as soon as I can. Is there a funeral home I should use? One that understands our traditions?”

  The bishop laid a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “There is one we normally deal with. I will speak to them and let them know what to expect.”

  “The women of our church will come to prepare the house. Do you wish the funeral to be held here or at Ernest’s home?” Granny Weaver asked.

  Owen looked at Ruth. “What do you think?”

  “I believe here would be better. I have more room and a bigger kitchen for feeding people after the funeral.”

  The bishop put his hat on. “I will return tomorrow. Until then may Gott be with you and comfort you.” He and Granny Weaver left.

  Ruth laid a hand on her forehead. “There is so much to do. Who will you ask to be pallbearers?”

  Owen knew he needed four men for the task. “Joshua King and Thomas Troyer are the two men I know best. Ernest and Faron if they’re able to return in time. If they can’t be here, then who would you suggest?”

  “Ben Zook and his son William. Wayne is William’s boy. I had better get started on Rebecca’s burial dress. I will need to pick up some white material. I don’t think I have enough. Grace will need a black dress. What about you? Do you have funeral clothes?”

  The mundane things that needed to be done seemed too mountainous to Owen at the moment. He was glad that Ruth was here to take charge. “I do have funeral clothes. I will go start on her coffin. I want to have it finished before I go in to see the sheriff.” In case he wasn’t able to return.

  He looked at Ruth. “Is it all right if Grace stays here tonight?” It was already getting dark outside.

  “You should both stay. Take Faron’s room. That way you’ll be close if Grace wakes up and wants you.”

  “Danki, Ruth. I don’t know what we would do without you.”

  “I wish I could do more.”

  Owen went out to Faron’s workshop and began selecting pine boards
to fashion into a six-sided box that would be his sister’s final resting place.

  * * *

  OWEN WAS ALREADY up early the next morning when he heard a horse whinnying outside. He walked to Ruth’s front door. Three buggies were coming down the lane. He recognized both Joshua and Thomas, but not the third driver.

  The men and women got out of their carriages. None of them had children with them. Abigail came up the steps with a large basket over her arm. “My condolences, Owen.” She turned to the couple behind her. “This is William and Jenny Zook. You met their son Wayne.”

  Owen nodded to them. Joshua came up to him. “The bishop stopped in last night. He told us what has been happening. Don’t worry about the sheriff. He’s just doing his job and that’s to find the truth. If you were a serious suspect, he would’ve taken you into custody. Asking you to come to the station means he’s trying to gather as much information as he can. It also means he trusts you will come of your own free will. I’ll come with you if you like.”

  “That makes me feel better.” If he didn’t have to worry about being thrown in jail, he could concentrate on the things he needed to do. “Won’t you come in?”

  Ruth came downstairs. Thomas took his hat off. “Which room, Ruth? And where shall we put the furniture?”

  “We will have the coffin placed in the living room. The furniture can all go out onto the back porch.”

  Abigail lifted the lid of her basket. “I brought some white dressmaking material. I didn’t know what you had.”

  Ruth looked at it and smiled at her friend. “This will work. You’ve saved me a trip into the fabric store.”

  The men got to work clearing out the room. Laura Beth and Ruth went up to Ruth’s sewing room while Jenny Zook and Abigail began cleaning the house.

  After the furniture had been moved, Owen stood looking at the empty room. He would need sawhorses to hold the coffin. A memory of his childhood home emptied of furniture with five coffins lined up made him flinch.