Abram paced the driveway, looking for signs of Ariana. Where was she this late at night? He heard a rustling from the pasture behind him and turned. How many times over the last hour had he thought he heard someone walking toward him only to discover it was a deer, a raccoon, or some other nocturnal creature?
He’d already gone to the places he could think of to look for her—the café, the swimming hole at the creek, and the room above the carriage house. All were sanctuaries where he could find his twin. She didn’t use those places often, because her real sanctuary was the kitchen, where she could bake and talk to loved ones as she fed them. Strange girl, really.
A cow mooed softly, making the evening seem as if it should have its usual rhythm and peace. The front door of the house opened. Emanuel stepped outside, fully clothed, including his straw hat. Salome followed behind, carrying a fussy Katie Ann. Emanuel headed to the barn, and since it was after eleven at night, Abram was sure his brother-in-law intended to hitch a carriage to a horse to search for Ariana.
Salome came toward Abram. “Still no sign of her?”
Abram shook his head. It was a rather annoying question. Obviously there was no sign of her or he wouldn’t be standing here on the lookout. “What did you two talk about on that carriage ride?”
Salome shrugged. “Silly sister stuff.”
Just how stupid did Salome think he was? “So what you would like me to believe is that, soon after Rudy arrived, she left him here to help Susie keep your children while she took you and the baby for a long buggy ride and she did so in order to discuss nothing more than silly sister stuff?”
“It doesn’t matter what we talked about.”
“Of course not.”
He’d made good overtime money today, but right now he wished he’d gotten home sooner, at least early enough to know what was going on.
Salome swayed Katie Ann, patting her back. “Sometimes Ariana gets too upset over things that aren’t her business.”
“That’s part of how we know she cares so much. And since when are you none of her business?”
Ariana didn’t argue over silly things. She tried to let people do as they thought best unless she feared they were entering a situation they couldn’t turn back from.
“Of course you disagree with me.” Salome jiggled the baby. “You two have been thick as thieves since the day you were born.”
Salome had been thirteen when they were born, so her recollections of their first months and years were pretty clear.
“So she drove you and Katie Ann back home, put the horse and carriage away, and took off on foot?”
“I guess. Once I got out of the rig, I didn’t hang around to see what she did.”
“And you didn’t ask.”
“Heavens, Abram, she’s twenty years old. Most Amish girls her age are engaged or married by now. I didn’t think I needed to baby-sit her. She was miffed and went for a walk. She’s gone for long walks for a decade. What’s the big deal?”
“It’s late and she’s alone. When we don’t go together, she always leaves me a note.”
“Always?”
He nodded.
“I didn’t know that.”
He could fill a library with all Salome didn’t know about Ariana. But he wouldn’t say that out loud. Salome’s selfishness had his temper boiling. He had little doubt that whatever the argument was about, Salome was at fault.
Emanuel drove the courting buggy out of the barn and toward them. Without the usual sides and top of an everyday carriage, it would be easy to see out.
Maybe Abram needed to go with them and search for her again along the roads. Emanuel hopped out and helped Salome climb in with the baby in her arms and then turned to him. “I think you should stay here and wait for her. We will drive the roads, looking for her while getting Katie Ann to sleep.” Emanuel nodded at him and then got in as if his words settled the matter.
Abram felt too antsy to stay put, but Emanuel’s plan had a bit of wisdom. Ariana was more likely to return home on her own, coming through a back field, than to be found walking down the road. If Abram was here when she arrived, he could finally get some straight answers.
Driving the last few miles of the three-hour trip from the college, Quill’s body ached from the stress. It was a type of weariness he hadn’t experienced before.
He took a deep breath. “We’re only ten minutes from where we stored your horse and carriage.” The statement was actually a question. Were they up to changing clothes and getting into their carriage, or did they need him to drive more while the three of them talked? An hour ago he had pulled into a place where they could have changed into their Amish clothes, but between her sobs Lovina had assured him she was in no shape to get out of the car. Isaac had spoken up, saying they would wait and change right before getting into the buggy.
Quill looked in his rearview mirror. Isaac caught his eye and gave a nod while trying to comfort Lovina. The tension and grief inside the car were miserable, and he could use a break. But even if he hadn’t witnessed firsthand Lovina and Isaac’s emotional upheaval, he wouldn’t be free of his own inner turmoil involving this nightmare.
Fear over Ariana’s future wouldn’t retreat for even a moment. He knew her—how she thought, how she felt—and losing all DNA connection to the people she’d grown up with could undo her.
When he looked in her eyes now, compared to five years ago, he no longer saw childhood tagging along behind her, nipping at her heels. He saw full-fledged adulthood. And she had an untapped strength buried inside her, didn’t she?
Dear God, let that be true.
He’d dealt with a lot of situations over the last seven years. The pressure began when he was only eighteen and took on the fight his Daed began, but that paled in comparison to what was happening now. He was unprepared in every way, and he didn’t know how to comfort or guide Lovina or Isaac. What could he say?
Lovina’s sobs had quieted now, and Isaac held her, his voice wavering as he spoke words of comfort that he clearly didn’t fully believe.
Now what? Since Quill had made the decision to leave with Frieda, he’d always known what to do. His decisions weren’t easy, nor were they always right in everyone’s eyes, including his own, but he’d known what had to be done. Each step. Every time.
Quill readjusted the rearview mirror so he could see them better. “I think you should let this situation with Ariana sit for now. She has seventeen days to finish earning the money for the café. If she can have that victory first, it’ll help her cope with the news.” But the news would still unravel her world. All Quill could do was help her attain one dream before she walked into a living nightmare…and hope that made her capable of keeping her feet under her.
Isaac reached across the back of the seat and patted Quill’s shoulder. “Denki.” His voice was raspy. “I agree, but how can she possibly earn that kind of money between now and then?”
It seemed that Isaac no longer viewed Quill as a traitor, which would help, because they needed to work together.
“She needs to have a benefit.”
“A benefit?” Isaac repeated. “Between now and the first of October?”
Isaac’s questions and his tone seemed to indicate that Ariana hadn’t talked to her parents about the idea, but he didn’t sound as if he was against it.
Quill squeezed the steering wheel. “I’ve put a lot of things into motion behind the scenes—things that can’t be connected to me, for her sake. All of it will fall into place if she’ll simply get the ball rolling to have a benefit.” He glanced in the rearview mirror.
Isaac’s smile said it all—he was truly grateful. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You’re okay with the plan?”
Isaac had to know it could ruffle feathers. The Amish had three categories for their people’s behavior: acceptable, frowned upon, and forbidden. Anything frowned upon could easily cause people to put up obstacles.
“We are if Ariana is.” Isaac lifted Lovina’s chin. “Right?”
Lovina wiped at her tears and nodded. “It would mean a lot to her if she could buy it.”
“Good.” Quill nodded. “Then, aside from Ariana, the only potential problem is how the people and ministers react to the idea. She doesn’t have time to get bogged down in church politics and moral disapproval.”
Isaac stared into the rearview mirror, his eyes locked on Quill’s. “I…might be able to intervene on her behalf.”
That was a pretty bold statement for Isaac. Quill only knew him as someone who supported the ministers, never as a man who asked them to reconsider their stand. “You’re willing to try?” He glanced away from the rearview mirror, checking the road.
“Ya. But winning against hundreds of years of tradition isn’t easy.”
“True.” Quill ran his fingers along the steering wheel, his mind churning. The ministers weren’t bad people. They simply tended to think in the negative first, especially when the topic was a young woman establishing a new business. They worried over how inappropriate or selfish something might look or what model they were allowing. Quill needed to offer Isaac ways to present the positive sides and benefits.
While pondering that, he topped a hill and noticed a yellow glow in the distance. Focusing on it, he realized the light was coming from the windows of the community phone shanty. At nearly midnight? Was someone inside, or had a lamp accidentally been left burning?
He jolted when the phone that almost never received incoming calls began to vibrate. He pulled it from his pocket. The screen showed the community phone number, and a half-dozen possible scenarios crossed his mind.
His first goal was to protect Lovina and Isaac’s privacy, so rather than pull up to the phone shanty, he immediately veered to the side of the road and parked under a huge oak. He turned off the engine, hoping to get out of the car and take the call before it disconnected. “I need to answer this.” He opened the door to the car. “I’ll be right back.”
“No rush.” Isaac sounded grateful. He and Lovina probably needed time to talk openly without him there and without any chance of family overhearing them.
Quill hopped out and closed the door. “Hello.”
“Why, Quill?” Ariana’s whisper was haunting. “I…I don’t understand.”
Her voice quavered, and emotions from deep within him rushed to the surface, threatening to take control of him. She was the length of a football field away with no idea he was nearby. Should he walk to her? He stared into the starless night, searching the vast blackness for answers as he prayed for wisdom. “What’s going on, Ariana?”
“I thought we were building a bridge between your life on the outside and mine, one we could cross as needed for your Mamm’s sake. But that’s not at all what’s been happening, so please just go away and leave my family alone.”
Just politely end the call and get her parents out of here. Despite what he should do, he walked toward the phone shanty. With neither long strides nor timid ones, he headed for her like a fish being reeled in.
Had she learned what was going on with her parents? He kept his cards close to his vest and gave no information that might tip his hand, which meant she had to be the one to talk. “Take a breath and tell me what you are talking about.”
“Salome. How could you let me think I was on the right track?”
“I thought you knew. You said she changed her mind about leaving.”
“I was talking about Susie! You knew that!”
“Actually, I didn’t. You only referred to her as your sister, and I thought you meant Salome.”
“It’s constant secrecy with you. Why couldn’t you just tell me it was Salome?”
He stopped outside the open door. “I’m bound by confidentiality.”
She wheeled around, her eyes filled with raw anger and maybe hope that he would find a solution. How was he going to help Salome, Emanuel, and their five children—Ariana’s nieces and nephews—leave in the middle of what Lovina and Isaac needed to reveal to her? Maybe she was their biological daughter, but before DNA testing was done, they would have to tell her what might have happened the night she was born.
“Bound by secrecy?” She dropped the phone into its cradle. “The rest of us are bound by love, and you chain your life to secrecy? Why would you do that to yourself?”
If he opened up to her even a little, he feared he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from saying too much. “I’m sorry, Ariana. I really am.” He slid his phone into his pocket and stepped into the shanty. “I don’t know what else to say to you.” He went around her to the phone. He pushed an arrow, making the last number dialed—his number—come up on the screen, and then he deleted it.
She stared up at him, wide eyed and innocent in her anger. The cape dress didn’t hide her curves any more than the reserve of the Old Ways could hide the intensity that was pent up inside her. Underneath all the gentle restraint, she was a fighter of causes. How many times had that high-spirited determination pulled him from his darkest days following his Daed’s death? The light from the kerosene lamp danced against the soft skin of her cheeks.
Her brow furrowed, and she reached for the braided cord around his neck, tugging at it until it was free of his T-shirt. It was his most cherished possession. Disbelief etched across her face. She ran her fingers down the three-strand cord until she was cradling the silver medallion. She had cut three long strands of rawhide and braided them. Each one had a meaning—one cord represented God, one her, and one Quill. And she’d intertwined them because, as the book of Ecclesiastes said, “a threefold cord is not quickly broken.” The medallion had been forged from a silver spoon, and she’d drilled a hole in the center and carved angled braid marks across the round surface. He wasn’t sure how she’d managed some of the intricacies, and he doubted she could replicate it if given years to do so.
Holding the silver piece, she shook her head. “I…I don’t understand you.”
How could she? He had shared everything with her until he learned the secret that shattered their future. Then he focused on what had to be done next, shutting her out of his plans. “You don’t have to understand me to trust that no matter what’s happening, I’m on your side.”
He could see the battle inside her—to believe him or herself. Despite all her strength and determination, she still had a fragile innocence that needed protecting.
She traced the faux braiding on the silver piece before looking up again. “I don’t think you understand what it means to be on someone’s side. You’re too busy marching to the beat of your own drummer and getting others to march with you.” She released the necklace and walked out.
He drew a breath and tried to clear his head. There seemed to be no right words when it came to Ariana, and even the ones that would tell the complete truth wouldn’t give her the answers she wanted.
Was she unknowingly heading straight for the car? He rushed ahead of her, turned around to face her, and caught her arm. “The only drumbeat I march to is my belief that every person has the right to serve God without any manmade rules dictating the believers’ actions—just people and God communicating through prayer and scripture. There should be no interference by the Ordnung unless the believer trusts that’s God’s will for them.”
“With the freedoms you champion, are you free? Has your liberty filled you with more peace than the Old Ways?”
“Life isn’t that simple, Ari. Giving people the ability to follow their consciences is the right thing to do, and its success can’t be measured by whether I feel free or have peace.”
“Maybe that works for someone like you, but Salome is in no state of mind to make this kind of decision. Emanuel would do anything to help her. Surely you can see that.”
“I see, but perhaps she needs to get away from the community that pressured her against her will, against her mother’s intuition.”
“Perhaps? You intend for her to sever all ties between her and her family based on perhaps?”
“I can’t judge what Salome does or doesn’t need. Neither can you. The decision is between her, Emanuel, and God.”
Ariana pressed her fingertips against her forehead, shaking with clear exasperation and growling. “You’re infuriating.”
He was sure of that, especially from her very limited perspective of what he did and why. “My best advice is that you not approach Salome. If you make waves, if you make her feel more pressure, she could choose to leave tomorrow.”
“Great.” She thrust out both arms, fingers splayed. “Then I did exactly all the wrong things, didn’t I?”
What had she done? Could he undo it? He’d spent the better part of two years trying to help Salome and Emanuel navigate the bitterness while giving them hope that they could escape when the time was right.
They’d sold their house and moved back home. When she found out she was expecting, Quill was able to slow their plans to leave. Now they’d had the baby, and Salome was bouncing back quicker than he’d planned. Quill had only so much power to delay a departure.
“Go home, Ariana. Apologize to Salome. Tell her that you’ll love her no matter what her decision is. And don’t bring up the subject again.”
“You want me to give her a guilt-free pass to leave? I won’t do it.”
“Everyone has the right to choose.”
“They have chosen! They joined the faith more than a decade ago. They promised to uphold the Old Ways. Have you forgotten?”
“They were nineteen, and they’d spent their entire lives being convinced it was necessary to do so to be saved.”
“That’s not what the preachers teach.”
“It’s part of it, and it’s what Salome and many others heard. You’ve sat under the teachings. How many believe that joining the Amish faith is the only straight and narrow way?”
“For good reason. Have you seen what it’s like out there, the loose morals?”
He had, but whatever existed out there also existed among the Amish. Ariana just didn’t know much about that. “Salome and Emanuel’s desire to leave has nothing to do with embracing loose morals. Look, I want Salome and Emanuel to do what’s best for them and their family. We’re not far apart on this topic.”
“Except you’re holding the door wide open for them.”
“That’s not an accurate depiction. It’s where we differ, Ariana. I don’t think I know what’s best for others.”
“Sure you do. You simply go about exercising your beliefs in a different way than the Amish.”
She had some reasonable points, but they couldn’t have a true debate on this topic unless she knew information that he would never divulge, so it was time to stop the circular argument. “Regardless of how differently we view things, I promise I’m on your side concerning Emanuel and Salome and the café. We can’t control what anyone chooses to do. So focus on what you can control—your future business. Have the benefit. Draw Salome into helping you. Maybe that will make a difference for her.”
“You think so?” There it was again—hope that he could help her.
“I know that working to buy the café won’t harm Salome’s desire to stay, and I know you need that place as much as it needs you.”
She stared into his eyes, looking for truth.
“So”—he moved his hand to her forearm and wrist, holding it tightly—“we find ourselves needing to call another truce.”
“It’s more like we need to cross a shaky bridge of unknowns together.”
She used to have nightmares about crossing bridges as they collapsed, so he understood what she meant. “Okay, we have a bridge to cross. Can you find it in yourself to trust me so we can work together?” How ironic that he had to ask that question as he blocked her view of his car and her parents.
Thoughts of her parents in his car made him hate how much he had to keep from her. When would they tell her what happened the day she was born? Tomorrow? Next week? He didn’t know, but it wasn’t his place to reveal such news.
His heart raced as she stared at his hand, wavering about whether to trust him. “Despite the apparent outward betrayal of what I’ve done, Ari, what does your gut tell you is true?”
Her eyes bore into his, and he couldn’t help but smile. They were together and talking, working through the train wreck he’d caused. And yet, if Ariana knew the truth, she would understand that he’d been an innocent bystander who had tried to be a good Samaritan.
He wanted to pull her close and demand that she trust him and open her eyes. But of all the lessons he’d learned thus far, the one carved the deepest was that he could not will a person to do anything. He could only present what he knew to be true.
A whispery sound of acceptance, perhaps a short laugh at the absurdity of where they found themselves, fell from Ari’s lips. “Okay,” she breathed, clasping her hand around his arm in the same manner.
The moment washed over him, one he’d never imagined could happen. “Good.”
But her trust in him was probably as easily broken as a twig underfoot.