A few minutes after Andrew had fallen asleep covered in a lovely pink-and-white quilt, Joanna heard someone stirring in the Beilers’ kitchen. She gave Andrew one last look, then left the addition and opened the door to the main house. Irene stood in the kitchen, her body shivering the same way Andrew’s had. An empty mug was on the table. She coughed, her eyebrows raising as she glanced at Joanna. Then she gave her an apologetic look and left the kitchen.
“We were at Rhoda’s,” Naomi explained as Irene went upstairs to her room. “Irene had a headache and said she wanted to lie down. She fell asleep on the couch and didn’t wake up for a few hours. That’s why we were late coming home. Although it was a gut thing because we were able to wait out the rain.”
Joanna nodded. The rain had stopped almost as quickly as it started.
Naomi glanced at the staircase. “I should have brought her home earlier, but I didn’t want to disturb her. I thought she’d sleep off the headache. Besides, Rhoda seemed happy for the company.”
Joanna wasn’t surprised to hear that. She remembered Aden’s birthday supper and how eager Rhoda had been to help Joanna in the kitchen. Now that she wasn’t so self-involved with her own problems, Joanna could see that Rhoda’s melancholy was due to loneliness. Rhoda and Naomi had a lot in common—including absent husbands.
“Andrew’s ill too,” Joanna said. “He’s asleep right now.”
“In his room?”
“Nee, in the new part of the haus. He’s feverish. I hope you don’t mind, but I found some feverfew tea in the kitchen and gave it to him.”
“Irene just finished hers.” Naomi tilted her head. “Andrew didn’t mention you were coming over.”
“He didn’t know.” She threaded her fingers together. “I brought him a picnic for supper. I was hoping he and I could talk.”
“Did you?”
She shook her head. “He was too sick. He still feels hot. I think a cold washcloth will help cool him off.”
Naomi opened a drawer and pulled out a white cloth. She handed it to Joanna.
Joanna turned on the tap and soaked the cloth with cold water, then wrung it out until it stopped dripping. She turned off the tap. “I better get this to him.”
“Are you sure?”
Joanna frowned. “What do you mean?”
Naomi leaned against the counter. “Joanna, are you here for the right reasons?”
Joanna thought about Naomi’s question. Now that his mother was here, Andrew didn’t need Joanna to take care of him. But she wanted to be here. Not out of guilt or trying to make amends. She loved him, and she wanted to comfort him, whether or not he was still angry with her. “Ya. I believe I am.”
“Rhoda said there was a nasty flu bug going around. You could get sick.”
Joanna didn’t falter under Naomi’s scrutinizing. “I don’t care. I’m not leaving his side until he’s better. If that means I get sick, then so be it.”
After a pause Naomi nodded, smiling a little. “I’ll geh check on Irene.”
Joanna went back to the addition. Andrew was still asleep. Gently she laid the cloth on his hot forehead, and he didn’t move. His skin had a rosy glow from the fever.
She turned and looked at the food she’d laid out earlier. She’d take it to the main house in a little while. The potato salad and the tuna macaroni would have to be chilled, but the rest could go in the pantry. Her hips ached a little as she sat down in a rocking chair near the couch. The rain had stopped and the room was quiet, with the exception of the hissing from the gas lamp and an occasional coughing spell from Andrew.
A short time later she went to Andrew again. She took the washcloth off his forehead and flipped it over to the cooler side. He was still warm, but not as hot as he’d been before he had the feverfew. He shifted on the couch but didn’t open his eyes. She looked at him for a few moments, wishing she could take his hand. But she didn’t dare. As far as she knew he was still furious with her, and he needed to rest. If she held his hand he might get stirred up, and she didn’t want that. Not for her own sake, but for his.
She rose and went to the window in the living room. It was dark outside, and she wondered what time it was. Not that it mattered. She would stay here until he felt better or told her to leave. She put her hand on the brand-new glass. The windows didn’t have curtains on them . . . yet. Maybe one day.
Joanna turned from the window and settled back into the rocking chair. She glanced around the room. She hadn’t appreciated the work Andrew had done when he’d showed it to her the first time. She’d been too steeped in her own self-pity and fear to pay attention to the details, like the gleaming wood floor, the brand-new woodstove, and a magazine rack near the couch. It would be a good place to keep her cooking magazines. Somehow she knew that’s why Andrew had purchased the rack. Again, she thought about how warped her idea of love had been. Being in this small, cozy house Andrew had built with his own hands brought that point home. This was the perfect place to begin a new life. She’d been too blind to see it.
A sense of belonging washed over her in a warm wave. Naomi and Abigail both had faith that she and Andrew would be together again. Now she had that faith too. She glanced at Andrew. Somehow she had to convince him they still belonged together. She closed her eyes. Lord, help me figure out how . . .
She opened her eyes to the sound of Andrew mumbling. At some point during her prayer, she had fallen asleep. She went to him and perched on the edge of the sofa. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t saying anything now. She touched his forehead. The feverfew had helped for a little while, but now his temperature was back up. She went to the Beilers’ kitchen and made him some more tea, then went back and coaxed him into drinking some, helping him sit up first.
“So hot,” he said, throwing off the quilt. His eyes were open now, his face flushed.
“Yer fever’s higher again. Here.” She held the tea mug to his lips, and he sipped. Then he leaned his head back, only to start coughing again.
“I’ll be right back,” she said. She went to the little kitchen in the addition and turned on the tap. The water sputtered, then flowed freely. She took the washcloth she had used before to cool his forehead, rinsed it under cold water, and went back to Andrew. His eyes were closed again.
“Lean forward a bit.”
He mumbled something and didn’t move. She put her arm around his shoulders and tried to ease him up. He was too heavy for her. “Andrew . . . you have to help me.”
With a groan he sat up a little. She put the washcloth on the back of his neck, and he sank back down against the pillow she’d brought from the bedroom.
“How is he doing?”
Joanna looked up. She hadn’t heard Naomi come in. “Still feverish. I gave him some more tea. He might need a different fever reducer, though. We have some at the grocery store. It’s Sunday, but Sadie will open it for us.”
“It’s dawn. I can drive over to the store and get what he needs. Irene too.”
“Can you let Sadie and Abigail know where I am?” She was sure they were worried.
“They know. I told them when they called last night. I’ll go a little later. I don’t want to disturb them too early.”
She nodded, then Naomi left. Joanna continued to look at Andrew, who had fallen back asleep. Unable to resist, she brushed her hand against his cheek, which was bristly with a full day’s growth of dark blond beard covering his flushed skin. I love you, Andrew Beiler. I hope someday you can trust me again.
Andrew opened his eyes and peered into the darkness. He wasn’t sure what time it was, or even where he was for a moment. His shirt was damp, and he removed the cloth from his neck. As he became more aware, he realized he was still on the couch in the addition. He also realized he felt better. He glanced around the room and saw Joanna. So he hadn’t dreamed that she was here. She was sitting in the rocking chair, asleep, her body in an uncomfortable position. He was about to wake her, then thought better of it.
He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the sofa. The room spun slightly, but he needed to go to the bathroom. He stood, waiting for the light-headedness to settle down, then made his way to the bathroom and took care of business. But on the way back to the couch, he started to sway a little bit. Joanna appeared right by his side.
“You should have woken me up,” she chastised. She put her arm around his waist and drew him close to her.
If he’d been of a normal mind, he would have realized she was so thin she shouldn’t be able to hold him up, but somehow she was managing. She was stronger than she looked. He leaned against her as she led him back to the couch. He plopped down, then slumped.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
He looked up at her. “I’m still alive.”
She chuckled a little bit.
When was the last time he’d heard her laugh?
“Think you can manage to eat some soup?” she asked.
“Maybe.”
“All right. Yer mamm made some chicken noodle soup last night. I’ll bring you a bowl.”
He nodded weakly as she turned to leave. Then he noticed again. “Where are yer crutches?”
She gave him the biggest smile he’d ever seen. “I don’t need them anymore.” Then she walked away. Her gait was a little wobbly, but if someone didn’t know what had happened to her, they wouldn’t have noticed.
What was going on? His mind was hazy, but he remembered when she’d shown up yesterday. He glanced at the empty coffee table. She must have done something with the food she brought. Why had she done brought it? His head started to throb, and he closed his eyes. Why was she still here?
He wanted to lie back down. His body felt like a team of horses had trampled it. His eyes closed, and he’d drifted off until he heard her come back into the room. When he looked up he saw her carrying a tray with a bowl, a spoon sticking out of it, and a glass of water.
She set the tray on the coffee table and then sat down next to him on the edge of the couch. When he leaned forward to reach for the bowl, she put her hand on his forearm. “Let me.”
The idea of her feeding him made him balk. “I can do it myself. I don’t need you to feed me.” He took the bowl, and his hands immediately started shaking. Fortunately she hadn’t filled it too full or he would have spilled soup everywhere.
Without a word she took the bowl from him, then scooped up some of the soup. Thin egg noodles hung over the edge of the spoon, surrounded by a pale yellow broth. The scent of the soup made his stomach growl, even though he didn’t have much of an appetite. When was the last time he’d eaten? He couldn’t remember. She held out the spoon. He sipped at the soup, the warm broth soothing his sore throat. But after a few spoonfuls he held up his hand. “I’m done,” he said, barely able to sit up anymore.
She set the bowl back on the tray. “Do you want some water?” He shook his head and stretched out on the couch. She covered him with the quilt, and he started to drift off again. But when she moved away he instinctively reached for her hand. He probably shouldn’t have, but for some reason he needed to touch her. “Danki,” he said softly.
“You don’t have to thank me.” To his surprise she sat back down next to him and continued to hold his hand. As he caught her gaze, he saw the love in her eyes that had been missing since she came back from Middlefield. His Joanna was back.
Joanna continued to take care of Andrew the rest of the day. He slept most of the time, but he was able to take some more soup in the afternoon, plus some of the orange juice Naomi had brought. It turned out he didn’t need the fever medication, but Irene did. She hadn’t come downstairs since she’d been home. Whatever flu bug the Beiler siblings had, Irene had gotten the worst of it.
After Andrew had had some soup, Joanna went into the main kitchen where Naomi was washing a few dishes. “Here’s another one,” Joanna said, putting the bowl next to the sink. “Can I dry them for you?”
Naomi stopped washing the dishes and looked at her. “Nee, it’s only a few.” She paused. “You look tired.”
Joanna nodded. She was exhausted, and in more pain than she’d been in for a while. “I am. I haven’t slept well in that chair.”
“Then you should geh home.”
“I will when Andrew is better. His fever is gone, so I think he’s on the mend.”
“You can at least take a nap in the bed.”
“But I want to be by his side when he wakes up.”
Naomi rinsed her hands, then dried them on a towel. “Let me fix you something to eat, at least.”
“That would be nice.” Joanna nodded, went to the table, and sat down.
A few moments later Naomi put a plate of food in front of Joanna, then joined her at the table. After she said grace she picked up her fork to dig into the meal. She felt Naomi’s gaze on her. “Is something wrong?”
“Nee.” Naomi smiled. “I see Andrew’s not the only one feeling better. You don’t have yer crutches.”
Joanna scooped up a forkful of apple salad. “I am feeling better. Not just physically.” She took a bite of the salad. It was delicious. “Does Andrew like this?”
Naomi nodded. “We have it every fall, when the apples are plentiful.”
“Can I get the recipe? I’d like to make it for him sometime.”
“Sure.” She paused. “Are you thinking about getting back into mei sohn’s gut graces through his stomach?”
“It’s a start, right?” She smiled and ate another bite of the salad. She swallowed, then spoke. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. I just want him to know how much I care about him. After what I did to him at the wedding, it’s going to be a long time before he forgives me.”
“I think he might surprise you.” Naomi rose from the table. “I need to finish those dishes and check on Irene again. Poor thing, she’s really feeling awful.”
Joanna finished the salad. She felt bad for Irene, but hopefully she would be feeling better soon. Naomi’s words about Andrew gave her hope, though. The picnic was a failure, and she was sorry Andrew was sick. But she was grateful she could be there for him for once. She felt so much love for him, and also a sense of peace. Sure, he only had the flu, but he had needed her. And it felt so good to be needed. When he felt better he might not want her around, but she wasn’t going to give up. She hoped Naomi was right.
A short while later she went back to the addition. Andrew was still asleep. She sat down in the rocking chair, trying to be as quiet as possible. But the sound of the chair rockers hitting the wood floor must have awakened him.
“Sorry,” she said, looking at him.
“It’s all right. I wasn’t really sleeping anyway.”
She leaned forward. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” His blue eyes widened. “Much better, actually.” He sat up a bit and looked down at the quilt covering the lower half of his body.
“That’s a beautiful quilt,” she said.
He looked at her for a moment, then drew the quilt back. “How long have you been here?”
“Since yesterday.”
He frowned. “Where are Mamm and Irene?”
Joanna filled him in on Irene’s illness. “So yer mamm’s been taking care of her while I’ve been taking care of you.” She smiled. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. Do you need anything?”
“A shower and mei own bed.”
“Oh.” Her smile dimmed a bit. She stood. “I should be getting back home, then.” She waited to see if he would ask her to stay. He didn’t. “I’ll see you later.” She started to leave.
“Joanna.”
She turned and faced him, feeling hopeful. “Ya?”
“You forgot yer basket.”
She stiffened a bit, then went to get the picnic basket on the floor next to the coffee table. “Danki for reminding me.” She met his gaze, gave him one last longing look, and left.
As she went home, she tried to remain upbeat. At least he didn’t seem to be angry with her anymore. That, in her mind, was progress.
After he took a quick shower, Andrew was exhausted again. He was also hungry. He went downstairs to the kitchen and was surprised to see both his mother and Irene there. His sister looked tired, and she was sipping on the same chicken noodle soup Andrew had eaten before. But his mamm was munching on red-skinned potato salad. Andrew vaguely remembered that it had been in Joanna’s picnic basket.
He sat down and ran his hand through his still damp hair. He felt his mother’s gaze on him.
“Do you want something to eat?” she asked.
He nodded. “Did she leave the pepperoni roll?”
He detected a small smile on his mother’s face. “Ya. She left everything.”
A few minutes later he was chowing down on the most delicious pepperoni roll he’d ever tasted. Joanna was a great cook. And a good nurse. He couldn’t believe she’d stayed the whole night and day to take care of him. He also couldn’t believe how much that meant to him. The anger and resentment he felt for her had cooled, and not because he was recovering from a short but intense illness. But he still didn’t trust her. One day of care-taking didn’t erase what she had done to him. How much she’d hurt him.
“Joanna’s not using her crutches anymore,” Naomi said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“I noticed.”
“She seems to be stronger.” Naomi took a sip of her iced tea. “In more ways than one.”
Andrew looked at his mother. Her hints couldn’t have been any more obvious. But he didn’t respond. He didn’t want to talk about the state of his and Joanna’s relationship, even if those brief moments when she’d held his hand, despite his illness, had felt right. What he wanted to do was ask about his father and his cryptic letter.
He also wanted to know why she was still keeping in touch with him. Why they were hiding the truth about what happened in Florida from him and Irene.
Irene pulled the wool shawl hanging on her shoulders tighter around her body. Then she pushed her bowl away. “I’m going back upstairs.” Her voice sounded scratchy. She started to get up just as they heard a knock on the front door.
Andrew pushed away from the table. “I’ll get it.” He was still a little weak-legged, but he felt well enough to answer the door. “Are you expecting anyone?”
Both Naomi and Irene shook their heads.
Andrew went to the living room just as another knock sounded. “Just a minute!” He hurried to the door and opened it. An officer wearing a brown uniform stood in the doorway.
“Hello,” he said. Then he glanced at a pad he held in his hand. “Is this the Beiler residence?”
Andrew nodded but didn’t say anything. What were the police doing at his home? A thread of panic wound through him. Joanna had left a short time ago. What if she was in another accident? “Did something happen?” he asked, gripping the side of the door.
The man shook his head. “I’m Deputy Riley. I’m investigating the Schrocks’ hit-and-run case.”
The man was harshly direct, and there was no warmth behind his silver-gray eyes. Andrew’s guard went up, although he was relieved to learn nothing had happened to Joanna. But why would he be here asking questions about the accident? “I’m not sure what we can do to help. I don’t know anything about the accident. Neither do my mother and sister.”
“We’ve come upon some new information that might lead us to catch the person who did this.”
“What does that have to do with us?”
The officer leveled his gaze. “May I come in? I can fill you in on the details.”
Andrew hesitated. He’d never dealt with the law before. But if there was something he could do to help the Schrocks, he would do it. “All right,” he said, opening the door.
“Andrew, who is—”
Andrew turned around to see his mother turn stark white. She put her hand to her chest. “Bartholomew? Is he . . .?”
The officer frowned a bit. “Ma’am, I’m here about the Schrock case. I don’t know anyone named Bartholomew.”
Andrew stared at his mother. She seemed to almost pass out with relief at the officer’s news. She quickly regained her composure. “Oh. Sorry, my mistake. Please, sit down.” She gestured to a chair near the door. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“Not necessary, ma’am. I’m hoping not to take up too much of your time.”
The officer was talking as Irene came into the room. “What’s going on?”
“Please,” the officer said, sounding impatient. “If you will all sit down, I’ll explain.”
Irene and Mamm sat on the couch opposite the officer, and Andrew took a seat next to them. After seeing his mother’s reaction to the police officer, he didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep the letter a secret. He was sick and tired of secrets anyway. The truth needed to come out, regardless of what his father had written.
Riley’s brow furrowed, and he glanced at his notes again. “Do you know the Schrocks?”
“We all know each other around here.” Andrew’s tone was noncommittal. He didn’t trust this guy, and he wanted him to finish his business as soon as possible. He glanced at Irene, who looked paler than she had before.
“So you’re aware of the accident that killed Mr. and Mrs. Schrock?”
“Very aware.” Andrew fisted his hands. “I’d appreciate it if you’d get to the point.”
“We have a new lead in the case.”
“What lead?”
“You’ll need to answer my questions first.”
Andrew paused, giving the guy another wary look before turning to his mother. “Are you all right?” he whispered to her and his sister in Dietsch.
“Ya,” Irene said. But her mother only nodded, bunching her skirt in her hands.
“Are any of you familiar with a man named Cameron Crawford?” the officer asked.
What did Cameron have to do with any of this? “He was here a few days ago,” Andrew said. “He had a flat tire on his truck and he was waiting for a tow.”
“Was anyone with him?”
“His daughter.”
“A baby daughter,” Irene said, emphasizing baby.
The deputy looked at his pad again, made a mark with his pencil, then looked up. “Did he mention anything about an accident?”
“You mean his wife’s?” Irene interjected.
“No, although we’re aware she died in childbirth.”
Andrew frowned. He’d known Crawford’s wife had died, but during his daughter’s birth?
“How awful,” Irene whispered.
Riley’s expression was emotionless. “Did you get a look at his truck, by any chance?”
Andrew shook his head, his patience paper thin. “What does this have to do with what happened to Joanna and her parents?”
“You know the Schrocks well, then?”
“Joanna is . . . was my fiancée.” Andrew’s jaw jerked. “And I’m not answering anything else until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Fair enough. We got a tip from the auto shop that replaced Crawford’s tire. Apparently there was damage to the truck consistent with a recent accident. When the mechanic asked if they could fix it, Crawford refused. We’ve been asking for information about this case since the accident. Newspaper articles, even a few TV stations picked it up. Fortunately this guy is a news junkie, and he went with his gut and called us. That’s what led me here. Other than the motel where Crawford stayed and waited for his truck to be ready, this was the last place he was seen. Do you have any idea where he was going?”
“No.” Andrew tapped the toe of his boot against the wood floor.
“He said something about going south,” Irene said. “He was ready for a new life for him and his daughter. He had bad memories of Langdon.” Her eyes widened. “You think he had something to do with the Schrock accident?”
“Yes,” Riley said. “We do.”
“That can’t be true,” Irene said. “I don’t think you have the right person.”
“Irene,” Andrew said, his voice holding warning.
She ignored him. “Cameron is a kind man. He’s suffered a horrendous tragedy, and he’s trying to take care of his baby. I’m sure the damage to his truck could have been caused by anything.”
The deputy looked at her for a long moment, his expression as hard as stone. Irene shrank back, looking more weary and ill than before. Andrew turned to Riley. “That’s all we know.” He rose from the couch. “I hope you find the person who caused the Schrock accident. I really do. But you won’t get any more answers from us, because we don’t know anything else.”
Again, the deputy didn’t move, his gaze focused on Andrew as if he were trying to determine if Andrew was telling the truth. Finally he rose. “If you do hear from Crawford, please let me know.” His hardened facade softened a little. “I’m from Holmes County. I know a lot of Amish, and I know you people, as a rule, do not like to deal with law enforcement. But since you have a personal tie to this case, I hope you’ll reconsider if you learn anything. I’m sure your fiancée wants closure.”
Andrew stepped forward, ignoring the stab of pain he felt at the deputy mentioning Joanna was his fiancée. “Have you talked to her?”
He shook his head. “Not recently. We tried to question her about the accident after it happened, when she was well enough to talk. She doesn’t remember much of it, and not enough to help with the case. I don’t want to put her through any more stress unless it’s necessary.” He pulled out a card from his shirt pocket. “I’ll leave this with you. If you hear anything or see Crawford again, let us know. You may not know this, but if you decide to help him, you can be charged with obstructing justice.”
He heard his mother suck in a breath. Andrew went to her side. “We understand.”
The deputy nodded. “Maybe we’ll have some good news soon about the case. Our office will keep you posted.”
Andrew went to the door and opened it. The deputy nodded and left. When Andrew closed the door, he turned around. Both his mother and sister were upset. “Is there anything about Crawford that you’re not telling me?” he asked, looking pointedly at Irene.
Wide-eyed, she shook her head. “Nee. And I can’t believe he’s the one who caused the accident. He wouldn’t do that.”
“Irene, we don’t know anything about him.” Andrew rubbed the back of his neck. Crawford’s eagerness to leave, his unease around all of them, now started to make sense. He was guilty. Andrew knew it in his gut. And the man was in mei haus.
“We should tell the Schrocks,” Andrew said. “They would want to know about this.”
“But Cameron didn’t do it,” Irene insisted. She shrank back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said so much to the deputy.”
Andrew looked at her. At the time he’d been shocked at her vehement defense of Cameron. But then he started to feel the same way. The man who had been in his house, who had partaken of their hospitality and allowed his sister to care for his daughter . . . He had a hard time reconciling that he was same man who had taken Herr and Frau Schrock’s lives and injured Joanna.
“Will you two tell me what’s going on?” Naomi asked.
Andrew filled her in.
“I refuse to believe he’s the one,” Irene added. “He was too kind and loved his daughter very much—”
“And that’s what worries me.”
Both Andrew and Irene looked at their mother. She still looked slightly pale, and Andrew wanted to know why she had assumed the deputy was here because of his father. There were too many unanswered questions concerning his parents, and he would get to the bottom of that later. Right now he wanted to know what his mother meant.
“I don’t understand,” Irene said.
Naomi looked at her, then at Andrew. “You’ll understand when you have kinner of yer own. You’d do anything to keep them safe. To protect them.” She licked her lips. “The love Cameron has for his daughter could have driven him not only out of Langdon, but also away from the police.”
Andrew sat back, confusion warring within him. His mother’s words made sense. He couldn’t imagine being a single father, especially at Cameron’s age. When Cameron was talking about losing his wife, Andrew had thought about how afraid he’d been when Joanna was in the hospital. He’d been so afraid he’d lose her. I lost her anyway.
But not the way Cameron had lost his wife. Or Asa his fiancée. Or even how his mother and father had lost each other. They were still married, at least according to his father.
“What would happen to Lacy if Cameron went to jail?” Irene asked quietly.
“I imagine the Englisch legal system would put her into foster care.”
“We don’t have any proof of that.” Naomi put her hand on Andrew’s arm. “If we hear anything, we’ll report it. It’s our duty to do so. But I don’t think we’ll ever see Cameron or Lacy again.”
“What do I tell Joanna?”
“Nix. Don’t tell her about this.” Naomi looked at Irene. “You don’t say anything, either.”
“How can I keep a secret like that from her?” Andrew ran his hand through his hair. Although they weren’t together anymore, he didn’t want to keep anything from her. He was tired of lies and deception.
His mother looked at him, pleading in her eyes. “Andrew, I know you want to be honest with her. I understand that. But bringing this up—especially when we don’t know the whole story—could really hurt her and her sisters. And what if nothing comes of it? If the deputy is wrong, then you’ve upset them for nothing. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do to protect those we love.”
He looked at Mamm, and he knew she wasn’t just talking about Joanna. And as much as he didn’t want to accept it, he also knew she was right about Joanna. Somehow he had to reconcile keeping this from Joanna until the authorities apprehended the perpetrator—whether it was Cameron or someone else.
Andrew looked at his mother again. As their gazes met, they both knew the truth—Cameron had caused the accident. The knowledge was churning in his gut. But there was nothing he could do about it. He could only pray the police would find him. Justice had to be served. Joanna and her family deserved that. And in serving that justice, Cameron would lose his daughter. Despite everything, Andrew felt sympathy for the man.
“I’m going upstairs,” Irene said.
After his sister left, his mother started toward the kitchen. Andrew stopped her. “Mamm. I need to know what happened to Daed.”
His mother froze. “You read his letter?”
Andrew nodded. “I guess you were the one who put it on the coffee table.”
She nodded.
He took a step toward her. “He said he didn’t leave us for someone else, that you are still married. And why did you think the police were here for him?”
She went to sit down on the couch. Andrew joined her. He’d never seen his mother look so sad, even in the days after his father left. “I’d hoped yer daed wouldn’t have said anything to you. I didn’t want you to know about this.”
“Know about what?”
“The truth.” She looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes. “What we’ve been lying to you and Irene about all these years.”
Andrew clenched his teeth together. “He didn’t run off with an Englisch woman, then? He wasn’t lying about that in his letter?”
“Nee. Yer vatter is in witness protection.”
His eyes grew round. He wasn’t even sure what that was. “Witness protection?”
“To keep him safe. To keep us safe.” She sighed. “I met yer vatter when I was fourteen. He was fun. Adventurous. Mei parents had me when they were in their forties, and mei vatter had died when we moved to Florida from Pennsylvania. I was eighteen when mei mamm passed away.”
He nodded. He’d known his maternal grandparents had died before he was born, but his mother never talked about them.
“I grew up in a very strict household, and as an only child I was sheltered. When we moved to Florida, I met yer vatter. He was like a breath of fresh air to me. I fell in love right away. He loved me too. But I didn’t know everything about him. I didn’t realize that while we were dating, he was selling drugs.”
Andrew’s jaw dropped. His father was a drug dealer? “Why did you marry him, then?”
“Because he had stopped. He really had. He had renewed his faith and commitment to the Lord. It wasn’t until you and Irene were born that the past caught up with him.” She looked away. “It always does. The police tracked him down and brought him in for questioning. They arrested him, then offered him a deal—he could avoid jail if he helped them break up the drug gang he’d been a part of. He agreed, and I paid the bail money to get him out of jail. While he was out on bail, someone tried to kill him. We found out the drug dealer he worked for wanted him dead.”
“Because he was giving them up.”
“Ya. And because they were—are—dangerous people. We’re sheltered here in Birch Creek. That’s how yer vatter wanted it. He wanted to make sure his family was far away from the drug gang. We had made plans to move together as a family, but the police had other ideas.” Tears flowed down her cheeks. “He had to go into witness protection.”
Andrew fell back against the couch. “Why didn’t you tell us? Why lie?”
“To protect you and yer sister.”
“We wouldn’t need protecting if he hadn’t committed crimes in the first place,” Andrew muttered.
“You’re right.” Mamm took off her glasses and rubbed her red-rimmed eyes. “He made some horrible mistakes. He’s also paid for them.”
“So have you. We all have.” He shook his head. “Why didn’t he come back?”
“The FBI arrested most of the drug gang. But not all. They couldn’t find two of them. To save yer vatter’s life, he had to change his identity. He’s also being watched by US Marshals. They keep him safe.”
“And what about us?”
Her shoulders slumped. “I didn’t want to lie to you. He didn’t either. But we had to.” She looked at him. “You were both young when we left Florida. If you knew anything about what happened to yer vatter or what he was involved in, you might have said something. Even now, we can’t reveal the real reason he’s not with us.”
“But doesn’t witness protection protect all of us?”
“Only if he follows the rules.”
“Is letter writing part of the rules?”
She shook her head. “Nee. We take a risk every time we write to each other. But it’s the only contact we have. We needed that over the years.”
“The return address says he’s in California.”
“The address isn’t real. I don’t know where he is. He could be in California, or he could be in Ohio. I have nee idea, and that’s the point.”
“Why aren’t we being protected?” Andrew clenched his fists.
“We were under surveillance for a while. That was another thing we didn’t tell you. But after a few years they stopped it. We’re safe here, especially in the Amish community. That was another thing yer vatter made sure of—that I didn’t have to leave mei faith.”
“And he had to leave his.”
“Ya.” Mamm wiped her eyes. “Someday he may be able to come back and reconcile with the church. He’ll have to confess, and all this will be public knowledge in our community. I’m not sure if he’s willing to do that.”
“Because he’ll be embarrassed?” Andrew ground out, still hanging on to his resentment.
“Nee. Because you’ll be.”
Andrew shook his head. “Too late for that.”
Mamm put her hand on Andrew’s. “You need to forgive Joanna, Andrew.”
“Because I’m Amish.”
“Because when you love someone, you forgive them.”
“So you’ve forgiven Daed? Even though he left you alone all these years?”
“I wasn’t alone, Andrew.” She took his hand. “I have you and Irene. And I have God. He’s sustained me through it. And someday yer vatter will come back to me—to us.”
He pulled his hand out of his mother’s. Right now he wasn’t in a forgiving mood. She’d had years to come to terms with all of this. He felt like he was on overload. Joanna, his father, Cameron . . . In a matter of days, his life had been hit with an emotional earthquake. “Are you going to tell Irene all of this? Or do you expect me to lie to her like I have to lie to Joanna?”
Mamm shook her head. “I’ll tell her when she feels better. Now that you know the truth, she should know too.”
Andrew stood. The house felt like it was closing in on him. He had to get out. He started for the front door.
“Where are you going?” Mamm asked, rising from the couch.
“Out. Just . . . out.”
He went outside, the cold air hitting him. He headed for the barn and to Fred’s stall. As he fed his favorite horse, he fought against the softening inside him, not just toward Joanna but also his father. He didn’t know what to do with that. He’d resented his father for years. Now everything he’d known about him was a lie. For some bizarre reason he wished he could talk to him. Get his side of the story. It didn’t matter, though. Until the FBI or the police or whoever tracked down the other drug dealers, he wouldn’t get to see his father.
But now he understood why his mother had been so sympathetic to Cameron. Andrew’s father had made mistakes, but he had also suffered for them. He had chosen isolation from his wife and children to keep them safe. And after all these years, he was still faithful to his mother—or so she believed.
After reading his father’s letter, Andrew believed it too.
He leaned his head against Fred’s side. His mother still loved his father. It’s why she forgave him. It’s why she defended him to Andrew. When you truly loved someone, you forgave. You didn’t turn your back. You give her the best of yourself . . . even if you don’t think it’s enough.
He had to forgive Joanna, and not because he was Amish. Because what his mother said was true—he loved her. After everything, he still loved her.
Somehow he’d have to make sense of the nightmare his life had become. Problem was, he didn’t know how.
“It’s been a tough season for the flu,” the doctor said to Cameron. “Luckily, Lacy’s got only a mild case of it.”
Cameron stood next to Lacy’s crib, his body shaking with relief. She had been moved to the regular pediatric unit of this small hospital after spending most of the day in the emergency room. She had responded to the fluids well enough that the doctor didn’t feel the need to transport her by helicopter to the children’s hospital nearly an hour away. Cameron had almost collapsed to his knees when they said they were going to admit her and keep a close eye on her. “So she’s going to be okay?”
The doctor nodded. “Her temperature’s down to 99, which is good. We’ll want to keep her for at least another day to monitor that and get her nutrition back up. She’s a little underweight.”
Cameron thought about how Lacy hadn’t been on a normal schedule since he’d left Langdon. She hadn’t even slept in a regular crib. Their few belongings he hadn’t been able to pack into his truck were in storage. Now he wouldn’t be able to afford the monthly fee. He was out of money, out of options. But more important, he had made a promise. God had delivered on his end. It was time for Cameron to keep his word.
“We’ll have her feeling better soon,” the doctor said, extending his hand to Cameron. “Then you can take her home. She’ll be a lot more comfortable there.”
As the doctor left, Cameron shook his head. He couldn’t take Lacy back to that motel. He took one last look at his daughter. I’d do anything for you, sweetheart. All this time he thought he was protecting her . . . but he was only protecting himself. He wanted her to have a better life than he had. The only way that would happen was if he let her go and finally did the right thing.
He touched her cheek, careful not to wake her, and left the room. He went down the hall and found a private corner at the end of it, near a window. He pulled his cell from his pocket and stared at it. His chest hurt and his throat squeezed. After this phone call everything would change, for both him and Lacy. Wiping his eye with the heel of his hand, he collected himself and dialed a number.
“Hello?”
Cameron leaned against the wall at the sound of Mrs. Rodriguez’s kind, familiar voice. “Hi,” he said. “It’s Cameron.”
“Cameron!”
He startled and pulled the phone away at her loud exclamation. How he managed a half-smile he didn’t know. Her excited voice tugged at his heart.
“I’m so happy to hear from you,” she said when he put the receiver back to his ear. “How are you? How is my precious Lacy?”
He filled her in on Lacy’s illness but was vague about any other details. She would know the story soon enough. “I know I don’t have the right to do this,” he said, swallowing. “You don’t owe me anything, and I owe you everything.”
“Cameron, please.” Her voice grew somber, but she still sounded emotional. “Anything you need me to do, I’ll be happy to do it. You know you’re family to me.”
You won’t think so after you find out what I’ve done. “I’m coming back to Langdon. I wondered if you could watch Lacy for me? I have . . .” His chest heaved. “I have something I need to do.”
“Of course, of course. And just so you know, I haven’t rented your apartment yet. Are you coming back for good?”
He paused. “No. I won’t be in Langdon long.”
After firming up details, Cameron hung up. He took another deep breath and sighed. He wouldn’t call the police until after he dropped off Lacy at Mrs. Rodriguez’s. That would be at least two more days. He went back to Lacy’s room and stood over her crib. He wanted to touch her again, but she slept so peacefully he didn’t want to disturb her. He had forty-eight hours left with her. After that he didn’t know if he’d ever see his daughter again.