Chapter
Three

“Might as well tell you right off that some people in Sanctuary aren’t happy you’re here.”

Martha Kirsch stared at us over the rims of her narrow glasses. Everything about Martha was narrow. Her face, her long nose, her body. Even her eyes narrowed as she looked us over.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “What changed since I talked to you the other day? You seemed excited that we were coming. You said you wanted a chance to share your town’s history.”

“I . . . I was excited. But then word got out, and everyone started complaining.”

I pointed at the large front window in the small library. “I see horses and buggies, but there are also quite a few cars. Obviously not all of your population is Old Order or Conservative. So why would everyone be opposed to our story?”

She shook her head, and the chains attached to her glasses jangled. “This town is very special—to everyone who lives here.” She sniffed, something she’d done more than once since Zac and I entered the building. Although the library looked clean, there was a musty smell. The building was old. Probably built in the 1800s. The aroma of an ancient building combined with old books could have been distasteful, but not to me. It reminded me of the library back home in Chicago where I’d grown up. I’d loved that library, frittering away many happy hours wandering through the aisles. There were tables where patrons could sit and read, but I spent my time sitting cross-legged on the floor next to tall shelves full of books. No one seemed to mind, and I was never asked to move. The library workers understood the lure of a good story and the magic of finding just the right spot to tuck oneself away to read.

“Just who is it that doesn’t want us here, Mrs. Kirsch?”

Another sniff. “That’s Miss Kirsch, thank you. Most of our residents are Mennonite, although there are only a few families that shun electricity and automobiles. Still, they don’t like being in the spotlight. And then there are the others.”

“The others? What others?”

The woman took a deep breath and scowled at me over her glasses. “Some people come here because . . . because they need privacy. They don’t want to be photographed. I shouldn’t have told you to come. I was wrong.”

Martha’s attitude was beginning to grate on my nerves. “Look, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I went to a lot of trouble to arrange this visit. I intend to stay.”

She rubbed her arms as if cold, but the inside of the library was almost as warm as the air outside.

“I must apologize for Martha.” A deep voice boomed from behind me, and I turned around to find a man staring at me. I immediately thought of a young Ewan McGregor. Blue eyes, cleft chin, a stubbly beard, and shaggy dishwater-blond hair streaked with golden highlights. He was dressed in jeans and a blue-and-white checked shirt. His bronzed skin obviously didn’t come from a tanning salon. His resemblance to one of my favorite actors made me gulp with surprise. I’d had a crush on McGregor ever since he’d played a young Obi Wan-Kenobi in the Star Wars saga. Who’d have thought I’d meet Obi Wan in a small Missouri Mennonite town?

“I don’t need you to apologize for me, Reuben King,” Martha said, accenting her words with another sniff. “You might be our mayor, but I think I can speak for myself.”

“I’m sure you can, Martha,” he said soothingly. “But telling a visitor they’re not welcome doesn’t do much to promote hospitality, does it?”

Even though Reuben was much younger than the aged librarian, she seemed to wither under his light reproach.

“I . . . I’m sorry,” she said, directing her attention to me. “I don’t mean to be difficult.” Although her words sounded conciliatory, her expression relayed a very different message.

“I understand. Please be assured that we’ll be very respectful to the residents of Sanctuary. We’re not here to intrude. We think your town is unique. I’m sure no one knows more about its history than you. I hope you’ll allow us to interview you, Martha.”

Looking somewhat mollified, the librarian’s eyes darted back and forth between the mayor and me.

Reuben smiled. “Thank you, Miss . . .”

“Evans. Wynter Evans,” I said quickly. My cheeks felt hot, and I hoped with every fiber of my being that my face wasn’t red.

“Nice to meet you, Wynter.” He looked questioningly at Zac. To be honest, I’d forgotten Zac was even in the room.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “This is Zac Weikal. He’s my photog. I mean, photographer.”

Reuben stuck his hand out. “Glad to meet you, Zac.”

After shaking hands, Reuben smiled widely at both of us.

“Now tell me what I can do to help you.”

The chastised Miss Kirsch slunk away toward her desk. Frankly, I was relieved and thankful that Reuben had some influence over the cranky librarian.

“Actually, we’d love to talk to you,” I said. “Find out more about Sanctuary. Maybe visit with some of your residents. I realize not everyone will want to be on camera.”

Reuben nodded. “That’s true. I must ask you not to take or publish videos or pictures without the permission of the people involved. If you’ll agree to that, I don’t think anyone will have a problem with your presence here. And that applies to all of our residents, not just the Mennonites.”

“I thought only Old Order Mennonites avoided having their picture taken.”

“There aren’t many Old Order Mennonites left. Most of the Mennonites in Sanctuary are conservative. They live simply, but almost everyone here uses electricity. You’ll see some horses and buggies, but the large majority of our people drive cars and trucks. You’ll find a mix of lifestyles and beliefs here.”

I frowned at him. “I guess I’m not seeing much difference between Sanctuary and any other small town.”

When Reuben laughed, his eyes sparkled. Anyway, I think they did. I felt like a silly schoolgirl in his presence instead of the confident professional I believed myself to be. I shook myself mentally. Get a grip, Wynter, before you make a fool of yourself.

“I think we’re rather special, but why don’t we talk more over dinner?” He glanced at his watch. “It’s a little after three. Where are you staying?”

“The Mountain Inn in Fredericktown.”

He frowned. “That’s quite a drive. Why don’t you stay here?”

Zac made a coughing sound. I knew staying in Sanctuary was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I looked for motels closer, but I couldn’t find any.”

“Esther Lapp has a big house on the edge of town. Since her children moved out, she’s all alone. I’m sure she’d love to put you up. Esther’s lived in Sanctuary all her life and was raised Old Order. She’d be a wealth of information for your story.”

“I don’t know,” Zac said slowly. “I need electricity. And a TV.”

Reuben grinned. “Esther has electricity. Can’t help you with the TV though. Esther won’t have one in her house.”

I held my hand up before Zac could voice another objection. “We’re not here to watch television. I think your suggestion sounds wonderful. I’ll call the motel and cancel our reservations. Of course, we expect to pay Esther for her hospitality.”

“Then you’ll have a problem on your hands,” Reuben said. “Esther wouldn’t think about taking a dime of your money. She loves company.”

“The motel in Fredericktown will charge us for a day,” Zac interjected. “You won’t be giving them twenty-four hours’ notice.”

“No big deal. Overall, we’ll save money.” When he started to complain again, I gave him my best withering look. Although I had no idea how threatening it actually was, it seemed to do the trick. Zac’s mouth snapped shut, but his pouty expression stayed firmly in place.

I walked over to Martha’s desk and thanked her for her help. She barely acknowledged me, giving me an almost imperceptible nod. It didn’t bother me. It was clear Reuben was going to be a much better source of information anyway. He called Esther while I contacted our hotel. I had to step outside to get a decent cell phone signal. By the time I had enough juice to attempt my call, I was well out into the road. Several people passing by stared at me curiously. I wondered how many visitors they actually got in Sanctuary.

The manager at the hotel was extremely nice and canceled the reservation without charging me anything. That would keep Ed happy. I’d just turned off my cell phone and was preparing to go back inside the library when a buggy pulled up next to me and a young man got out. He looked like an older version of my brother, Ryan. Our eyes met, but there was no recognition in his expression. He smiled briefly and then turned to help an older woman out of the carriage.

“I’ll pick you up in an hour, Mother,” he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

“Thank you, Elijah,” she said with a smile.

I stood there in shock. I’d been in town only a short time and had already met the person I’d come here to see. I watched as the woman walked up the steps and went into the library. Then I turned back to see the young man get into the buggy and ride off. The love between them was evident. That boy didn’t look like someone who had been kidnapped and held against his will. Had I made a mistake in coming here? Was I risking my job on a wild-goose chase? A voice in my head told me to get out of Sanctuary. But another one whispered that I should stay. I decided to listen to the second voice.