Chapter
Sixteen

Saturday was uneventful. I worked on lesson plans, preparing for school on Monday. The night before, a winter storm had swept through, dumping about six inches of snow. Several of the men in Sanctuary got out and began clearing sidewalks and streets. By Saturday afternoon, the snow had been pushed off to the side, giving everyone safe passage whether they drove a vehicle, a buggy, or made their way on foot.

Sunday morning Janet, Cicely, and I walked to Sanctuary Mennonite Church since it was close to our house. As we sat next to Esther, several of my students came over to say hello. We saw the Ostranders, but they didn’t acknowledge us. William wouldn’t look our way, and his wife, Trina, acted as if we were invisible. I caught Jeremiah’s eye once and smiled. He gave me a brief nod but then turned his head. I had no idea what his father had said to him or what his punishment had been, but I prayed that the situation on Friday hadn’t ruined our relationship or made it impossible for Jeremiah to continue his studies.

Even though she’d complained about going, Cicely seemed curious about the Mennonite church. The women sat on one side and the men on the other. Agape Fellowship had a praise and worship team with instruments, but there was only one person playing guitar in the Mennonite service. Cicely would have been shocked to learn that the guitar player had been added just six months earlier. At one time, the church taught that using instruments during worship was wrong, since they believed there was no mention of them in the New Testament. However, Jonathon Wiese had changed Pastor Troyer’s mind about this point. Pastor Troyer had addressed the congregation before the change was made. “Why would God find instruments pleasant in Old Testament times and then suddenly not want them anymore?” he asked. “We must remember that the division between the Old Testament and New Testament was added by men. Even though we are now under grace through Jesus Christ, the story of God is seamless. We must not elevate traditions over the nature of God. There is nothing evil about instruments used to praise the name of the Lord.”

Even though his explanation satisfied most of his congregation, at first there were a few older members who struggled with the change. Slowly but surely they began to accept it. Esther had been instrumental in bringing most of them around. One of the church’s oldest parishioners, Gussie Brinkerhoff, even smiled now when the young guitar player came up to the platform. She’d been violently opposed to the change at first. The young man, Henry Shultz, played beautifully, and his soft strumming was so anointed it was hard to argue with his addition to the service.

Pastor Troyer’s sermon was about love in action. “Love is not an abundance of words,” he said. “Love helps. Love is there when a brother or sister has trouble. Love finds a way to hold them up and bring them through their difficulty. James points out that saying to someone in need, ‘Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth it profit?’” He closed his Bible and looked out at the congregation. “How many times do we promise to pray for someone when the answer to their need is in our possession? Is it love to pray and not respond? I do not believe it is. God does not surround us with vain promises. He is our ever-present help in time of need. I encourage you to be the hand of God to your neighbors, and not just to those who attend your church or believe the way you do. Love doesn’t ask for perfection before it reaches out. Remember that it isn’t judgment that leads men to God. It is His love and forgiveness in action. For us to be like God, we must love the same way.”

After the sermon one of the elders came up to give the closing prayer, and then we were dismissed. I went up to the front of the church to talk to Pastor Troyer. I waited until he finished talking to a couple who had reached him first. After they walked away, he smiled at me.

“Why, Sarah Miller. I am happy to see you. How are you doing?”

I smiled at the tall, thin minister with a salt-and-pepper beard that seemed to underline his wonderful smile. Although he couldn’t really be called a handsome man, the love of God shone through him, making him someone people felt drawn to.

“We’re doing okay, Pastor. Thank you. And thank you so much for all the wonderful food you and your wife brought to our house. I so appreciated your kind note. It meant a lot to me.”

“I am glad. I left a message with Janet to tell you that if you ever needed to talk, I was here for you.”

“I got it, and I appreciate it very much.”

“Is there something I can help you with today?”

“It’s about Ruth, Pastor. I know how much she loves animals. Janet could use some help during the day at the clinic. Is it possible that Ruth might be interested in working for her part time?”

Pastor Troyer’s smile widened. “Oh my. I believe she would love that. She desperately needs something to do. I will talk to her this afternoon and then get back to you and Janet. Would that be all right?”

“Wonderful. Thank you.”

I started to leave, but he stopped me. “Sarah, I am somewhat concerned about Jeremiah Ostrander. Is he doing well in school?”

I nodded. “As well as he can. I wish his parents would let me teach him sign language. It would help him to communicate better with the world around him.”

He frowned. “I wasn’t aware that Jeremiah was learning sign language.”

“Only a few words so far. With all the other children in class, I don’t have much time to teach him. If his parents would help, it could make a huge difference.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me. If you do not mind, I would like to talk to his parents about this issue.”

I nodded. “That would be wonderful. Any help you can give would be greatly appreciated.” I studied his expression. “But that’s not why you asked about him, is it?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “The boy seems morose and discouraged. Although I cannot point to any one example, I am concerned about the way his father treats him. William appears to be very harsh and critical of Jeremiah.” He looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Am I wrong about this?”

Although I made it a policy not to talk about my students or their parents to others in the community, I made an exception and told Pastor Troyer about the incident at the mine.

“So Jeremiah was only trying to protect Cicely?” he said.

“Yes, but William was furious and intent on punishing him.”

“He always seems angry with the boy. I confess I do not understand.”

I hesitated a moment before saying, “I think I do.”

Pastor Troyer’s forehead wrinkled with concern. “Will you please share your reasoning with me?”

I nodded. “Sometimes parents, especially fathers, carry guilt or anger if their children aren’t perfect. Unfortunately, they can lash out at the child. I think that’s what’s happening here. One of William’s sons left him and the other has hearing loss.”

Pastor Troyer’s eyes widened. “Oh my. That makes perfect sense. I must confess that sometimes I feel guilty about Ruth. I mean, I do not see her as disabled, but I wonder why she could not do better in school. And why she seems so withdrawn.” He shook his head. “However, I do not feel anger. Just concern.”

“William’s concern comes out a different way. Unfortunately, it won’t help Jeremiah. It only makes it harder for him.” I smiled at him. “Ruth is a wonderful young woman. She just hasn’t found her calling yet. Maybe working with Janet will spark something in her.”

“I suspect you are correct.” He patted my shoulder. “Thank you so much, Sarah. I must say how happy I am that you found your calling. You do so much to help the young people in our school. We are truly blessed.”

“I don’t seem to be helping my niece much. I covet your prayers, Pastor. She’s hurt and angry, and I’m trying to find a way to help her.”

“You will find it,” he said with sincerity. “I have no doubt of that. But I will certainly pray for both of you.”

“Thank you.”

“About the incident at the mine. Have you explained the truth to Brother Ostrander?”

“That’s my intention. If I can catch them before they leave, that is.”

Pastor Troyer smiled. “But his busybody pastor is holding you up. I am sorry, Sarah. Please hurry along and speak to William. And if I can do anything to help . . .”

“Thank you. I’ll certainly call on you.”

“And I will let you know Ruth’s response to your kind offer. I am certain she will be excited.”

I said good-bye and joined Janet and Cecily. “He thinks Ruth will be very interested,” I told Janet. “He’s going to talk to her and let us know.”

“Oh, thank you,” Janet said with a sigh. “Maybe this will be a blessing for both of us.”

We put on our coats and stepped outside. The Ostranders were just getting into their buggy. I took a deep breath, summoned up my courage, and hurried over to them before they could leave. Trina looked away as I approached. William, who was just getting into the buggy, glared at me. For a moment, I almost turned back, but my concern for Jeremiah kept me going.

“William,” I said, trying not to be intimated by the look he gave me, “I need to tell you something. Cicely admitted that it was her idea to go to the mine, not Jeremiah’s. In fact, he only followed her because he was concerned for her safety. I felt you should know that what happened wasn’t his fault. He was just trying to help.”

William’s expression didn’t change, but Trina turned around and met my gaze. Taking that as encouragement, I continued. “I want to apologize for my niece and ask for your understanding. Losing her mother was very traumatic. She . . . she’s been making poor decisions, and it seems she pulled Jeremiah into this last situation. I hope you will forgive her. I want you to know that I’m trying as hard as I can to help her. I covet your prayers.”

This time the compassion in Trina’s face was clear, and I smiled at her.

“Jeremiah is a wonderful young man, and I’m sorry Cicely got him into trouble,” I continued. “I . . . I guess that’s all I have to say.” I looked at Jeremiah, who stared at me with an expression I couldn’t interpret. “I hope to see you in school tomorrow, Jeremiah.” William just continued to glower at me, so I turned to go.

“Thank you, Sarah,” Trina said. “It was good of you to explain the truth to us.”

I looked back and found her smiling at me. “Thank you, Trina. Jeremiah has been a good friend to Cicely. I’ll do everything I can to keep something like this from happening again.”

“Your niece needs correction,” William said gruffly. “You do not seem capable of providing it. Please keep her away from my son. As I’ve already said, if you cannot do that, we will remove him from your school.”

With that, he urged his horse on and rode away. Every Conservative Mennonite family I dealt with through the school showed me nothing but Christian kindness, but William was another matter. His rudeness and judgmental attitudes were an antithesis to the gentle disposition of the other parents.

I went back to where Janet and Cicely waited for me. Esther stood next to Janet. When I reached them, Esther took my arm.

“I am so sorry William spoke so harshly,” she said. “He is a man with a great burden.”

“He’s a jerk,” Cicely said. She frowned at me. “Why did you let him talk to you like that?”

“My concern is for Jeremiah, Cicely,” I said. “He loves school. Maybe William was wrong, but I had to decide what was most important. Protecting Jeremiah meant more to me than protecting my feelings.”

Esther smiled at her. “Sarah is right, Cicely. And as far as William is concerned, remember that most of the time people who are ‘jerks’ are that way for a reason. Everyone has their own burden to bear.” She pulled her cape closer as a cold gust of wind blew past us. “Perhaps we all need to get home.”

“Why don’t you come over and have lunch with us?” Janet said. “We’d love to have you.”

“Oh, thank you, my friend, but Wynter and Reuben are taking me to lunch in Fredericktown today. Maybe another time?”

“Of course,” Janet said. She gave her friend a big hug.

“Thank you for your kind words,” I said. “And please keep us in your prayers. I don’t want William’s attitude to cause trouble for Jeremiah at school.”

“You mean his father might really keep him out?” Cicely asked, her eyes wide.

I nodded. “Yes, Cicely. Sometimes our actions can hurt the people we care about.”

She stared at me for a moment and then looked away. Another blast of wind convinced me we needed to get home. I gave Esther a quick hug, and we turned to leave. Suddenly, Cicely ran back and wrapped her arms around the elderly woman, who looked surprised and pleased by the touching gesture.

“You are a good girl,” she said to Cicely after she let her go. “I am pretty smart about people, and I see what a wonderful heart you have. I am so glad we get to be friends.”

“I am too,” Cicely said. She turned and ran past us, headed toward Janet’s.

We said good-bye to Esther and hurried toward home. Cicely’s actions confused me. Why did she react that way to someone she didn’t really know, yet she rejected me?

“Cicely and Esther have spent some time together,” Janet said, as if she knew what I was thinking.

“When? Except for school, I’ve been with her almost all the time.”

“Not when she takes Murphy out.”

“She goes to Esther’s?”

Janet nodded. “Esther gives her cookies and talks to her. Cicely thinks she’s ‘awesome.’ That seems to be her favorite word.”

I shook my head. “I’d noticed some of his walks were a little long, but I had no idea she was visiting next door.”

“Esther is very supportive of you when she talks to Cicely. I think you should encourage the friendship.”

“Of course I will. I love Esther to pieces.”

“You know, Esther mentioned something interesting that Cicely brought up during one of their visits.”

“What was it?” I asked.

“After your parents died and your sister was adopted, what was your biggest fear?”

I didn’t even have to think twice about it. “Being alone again.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I was shocked by my inability to see what was right in front of me. “I’ve been worried she doesn’t believe I really love her. But she’s afraid if she loves me back, something will happen to me and she’ll be alone.” I shook my head. “I should have seen it. When my parents died I went to live with my aunt. Then she got sick, and I had to leave her house. I ended up with Mrs. Johnson, who died a year after I moved in. After that, I lost my sister. When I came here to live with you, I kept wondering if you’d die too. I’d forgotten.”

Janet nodded. “There’s nothing you can do about it, Sarah. Time and patience will have to give Cicely the reassurance she needs. Just like it did for you.”

“I still worry about what I would do if something happened to you, Janet. That fear has never really left me.”

She gave me a tight hug. “I know. But you know now that God will never leave you, no matter what happens around you. You need to teach that to Cicely.”

I sighed deeply. “As usual, you’re right. So let’s see. She’s afraid I don’t really want her. She’s angry that her mother died instead of me. But she’s also afraid I will die. Does that about sum it up?”

Janet laughed. “I know it’s complicated, honey. But Cicely will work through all of it. You have my word.”

I hugged her again. “Thank you. Now let’s get inside before we both freeze to death.”

When we reached the house, Janet opened her front door. The aroma of the pot roast she’d put in the oven before we left made me instantly hungry. Cicely wasn’t downstairs, but her coat was draped over a chair in the living room. I remembered Janet’s story about my towels and quietly hung up the coat.

After helping Janet set the table, I called Cicely to come downstairs. She seemed to be in a decent mood, and although we only made small talk, the atmosphere wasn’t as tense as it had been. We’d just finished lunch, and Janet had brought out a peach pie, when Cicely cleared her throat and looked at me.

“I wanted to know if I could help Janet after school,” she said. “I know that other girl will probably help during the day and Janet might not need me every night. But if I get my homework done and keep my grades up, is it all right?”

I looked at Janet, who was smiling. “As long as your grades don’t slip, I think it’s a fine idea. But you’d better ask Janet too.”

“Can I, Janet?” she asked. The pleading tone in her voice touched my heart.

Janet nodded. “I’d love it. Even with Ruth’s help, I’ll need some extra assistance. Maybe a couple nights a week? And Saturday if possible? It’s my busiest day.”

Cicely look back at me. “But I’m grounded, right? When can I start?”

“As long as you do your homework before you go, I’m willing to allow you to do this one thing.”

Cicely’s big smile told me my decision was the right one. “Awesome. Thank you, Aunt Sarah.”

“I’m not sure how she’ll get to the clinic during the week,” I said to Janet. “When the weather is good, she can walk, but what about when it’s bad out?”

Janet shrugged. “I’ll run over and get her. Won’t take more than a few minutes.”

“Okay,” I said, nodding. “I guess we have a plan.” It was nice to feel I was no longer on Cicely’s bad side. The pie tasted especially sweet. After we finished eating, Cicely and I helped Janet clean up. Then Cicely went upstairs to work on her homework. The job with Janet seemed to give her new energy.

“That was very wise,” Janet said after Cicely left. “I know sometimes it may not feel like it, but you’re doing a wonderful job with her. Just don’t doubt yourself so much.”

I sighed. “It’s easy because I do doubt myself.”

Janet patted me on the back. “Perfectly normal. I felt the same way when you moved in here. Even though you were older than Cicely, I still felt like a substitute mother. It was very intimidating.”

I looked at her with surprise. “I never sensed you felt that way.”

Janet grinned at me. “I didn’t want you to know how afraid I was. I felt you needed someone stable and confident. So that’s what I pretended to be.”

I laughed. “I guess I need acting lessons. You may need to coach me.”

She shook her head. “You’re a natural. Just remember that when you’re afraid, she’ll pick it up. She’ll be afraid too.”

I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks. For everything.”

“You’re welcome. Now this old lady is going upstairs to take a nap. I’ll see you later for supper. We’ll have roast beef sandwiches, okay?”

“Sounds great, but to be honest, I’m so full right now, I doubt I’ll be hungry the rest of the day.”

Janet smiled at me. “I totally understand. I’m hoping when I wake up I won’t feel like a stuffed zucchini.” When she yawned, I realized I was tired too.

Not long after Janet went upstairs, I followed her. I still had papers to go through and wanted to look at them today, since I would be back in school tomorrow. After going into my room, I closed and locked the door. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Janet or Cicely, I just felt the need to keep Hannah’s personal papers to myself for now.

I got the last box of papers out of the closet and dumped everything on my desk. Then I sat down and sorted out the loose papers. There wasn’t anything too exciting. Two store lists, a list of Christmas gifts to buy, and a to-do list. I cried out softly when I saw what she’d written next to my name. Get Mr. Whiskers cleaned and repaired. Sarah will love this! I’d wondered why she hadn’t given him back to me. I’d assumed he’d grown to mean so much to her she couldn’t bear to part with him. Now I knew she’d been planning to give him to me all along. I looked over in the corner where he sat in my chair and smiled. I was so grateful to God that I’d found him and removed him from the house before the fire. I had to stop for a few minutes and have a good cry. When I could see clearly again, I started back through the papers.

The last envelope was full of lists. Things Hannah had wanted to accomplish but never got done. From stocking her pantry, to mending clothes, joining a gym, putting together photo albums, and cleaning her house.

That was it. I’d been through everything, but there wasn’t any file from the reporter who’d contacted Hannah. Had someone found it? Taken it? I was starting to put some of the papers back in the box when I noticed something peeking out from underneath one of the box flaps that had been folded over another flap to close the bottom of the box. I reached down and pulled out a small manila envelope. I opened the clasp and dumped out the contents. Several old newspaper articles fell out. I removed a paper clip from them and realized several of them were about my parents’ murders. This had to be the information from the reporter. I read through them quickly but didn’t see anything new. Then I found an article about the robbery and murder of another couple in Kansas City. I looked at the date it was published. It had happened about a week after our parents were killed. I read the names, but they didn’t mean anything to me, so I put it aside. Was the reporter investigating this case too?

I continued looking through the rest of the contents. There was a sheet of lined notebook paper with notes on it. Written in an unknown hand, I assumed they belonged to the reporter. There wasn’t anything new, just a recap of basic facts from my parents’ murders. But at the bottom of the paper Hannah had written, J behind everything? Why? What is the connection to MLS?

I picked up a letter-sized envelope and took out some folded pieces of paper. It was a police report. I began to read it but quickly felt sick to my stomach. It was from the day my mother and father were killed. Cold, clinical, and disturbing. I couldn’t read the conditions of their bodies, so I skipped that part. Toward the end, someone had written, Two children removed from the premises and turned over to CPS. I recognized that as Child Protective Services. Images of horror from that day flashed in my mind like an out-of-control strobe light. I had to put the report down and catch my breath. I’d thought I wanted to see this, but I was wrong. It was too much to handle. I quickly put it back into the envelope. There didn’t seem to be any new information that could help me now anyway.

“So what does all this mean, Hannah?” I said quietly.

I put everything back in the box except the last envelope and its contents. I found Hannah’s first letter in my desk drawer, added it to the envelope with the reporter’s information, and slid the envelope back into my drawer. Then I carried the box down to the basement. Hopefully, there was something important in the papers I was keeping upstairs, but as of yet none of it made any sense to me. I needed to go through everything more carefully, but the police report had upset me, and I wanted to take a break. I was beginning to think I’d never uncover the evidence I needed to find Hannah’s killer.