A Heart Made New (41 page)

“Yes.”

Josiah paced the fence line. “Did you tell the bishop about Daniel?”

“No. Daniel’s just a friend.” She stepped into Josiah’s path, forcing him to stop. “He’s not very old, but he’s mature—like all you Plain men.”

He dodged her and resumed his pacing. “You think you’ll get me back by doing this. You won’t.”

“I know you love me, but that’s beside the point.” She folded her arms, looking every inch an Amish woman. Never had looks been so deceiving. “I want to be a part of this community.”

“You never did before. How did this happen?”

Sarah put both hands on the top railing of the fence and leaned in to it. “I watched your sisters at the hospital in Wichita. They were so
into their faith. They didn’t even think about cheating. You know, like watching TV or listening to music or using the microwave to make popcorn. They wouldn’t even read the magazines in the waiting room. They weren’t even tempted. They believe so much. I want to believe too.”

Josiah had almost no recollection of his time in the hospital, but he believed what Sarah said about his sisters. They were strong in their adherence to the Ordnung. Unlike him. “Then leave Daniel alone.”

“You’re so jealous. You’re still into me.” She reached up and touched his cheek, a feather of a touch. “I’d dump Daniel in a heartbeat if you’d come back to me.”

“It’s not jealousy. It’s concern for Daniel’s feelings.”

“He’ll get over it. Tell me you’ll come back to me, and I’ll ignore his flashlight in the window.”

“You’ll not have the chance.” Deacon Altman strode toward them, his long skinny legs pumping. “Daniel Blount’s father came to see me this morning.”

“Daniel’s father?” She had the good grace to flush. “What did he want?”

“You know perfectly well what he wanted.” Deacon Altman panted a little. He stopped, shoulder to shoulder with Josiah. “Your invitation to join us for the prayer service this morning has been revoked. We’ve spoken among ourselves, and we don’t feel you are truly ready to join our community. Give it a year and if you still feel convicted, come talk to me again. In the meantime, please go about your business.”

Sarah’s chin rose, then fell. Without another word she whirled and stalked away, an exit made difficult by her shoes sinking in the dirt. The burden on Josiah’s shoulders slipped away. No regrets lingered. The sun seemed brighter and the sky bluer, his sight clearer. He met the deacon’s gaze head-on. “Danki.”

The older man clapped his shoulder. “Come, we don’t want to be late.”

Together they walked toward the barn. At the door, he let his gaze roam across the women’s side.
There.
Miriam sat with her mother and
sisters. At that moment she glanced up. After a covert peek at her mother, she raised one hand an inch over her lap and gave him a tiny wave. Conscious of the crowd, he bobbed his head. She smiled and dropped her gaze to the floor.

“Glad that’s finally resolved.” David stood next to him. He’d come up so quietly Josiah looked to see if he was barefooted. “It took you long enough.”

“Courting is private.”

David grinned. “Yes, it is.”

Josiah studied his friend’s face. He hadn’t seen that smile in a very long time. A good day got even better. “You talked to Annie?”

“No.”

“Then why are you grinning like a coyote in the chicken coop?”

“None of your business.”

Sure his own face would split from the size of his smile, Josiah sank on to a bench. It was good day to give thanks.

A
nnie poured tea into three glasses, added chunks of ice from the pile melting in a pan, and handed the glasses to Emma and Miriam. Then she took a sip from hers. The service was over. They’d made it through. She usually enjoyed having the service at their farm, but today it had been full of drama that took her focus from worship and the fellowship that followed. Word had spread quickly of Sarah’s dismissal by Deacon Altman. Josiah had looked distracted during the prayer service and she was sure she’d seen David nod off.

His terse request after the service to talk to her “later” bumped around inside her head, making it impossible to concentrate on anything. Why wouldn’t he tell her about the test results? What did he want to talk about? “It’s terrible to say, but I don’t think I heard a word the deacon said this morning. Does that make me awful?”

Miriam stacked plates without looking up. “I found it hard to concentrate too.”

“Because of Sarah?” Emma set down her glass with a clunk. “She’s gone for good.”

Miriam picked up a towel and wiped at the counter. “After Friday night I thought all was well. I thought we were on the right road. Then this morning, I saw them together at the corral. Not looking like anything but a couple.”

“He was telling her to leave.” Annie tugged the towel from her. “I’ll dry, you wash.”

“Deacon Altman told her to leave. Josiah looked…distracted during the service.”

“But he was smiling afterwards. I saw him looking at you, smiling.” Annie wanted to do something to wipe that look of uncertainty from her friend’s face. “What did he say to you?”

“Exactly what David said to you. He wants to talk to me later.”

Annie scrubbed the roast pan harder than necessary. “Let’s talk about something else. How are you feeling, Emma?”

“I feel like David must. People are always asking how I am.” Emma slid a handful of dirty silverware into the tub. “I’m fine. It’s nice that Thomas and I will have the afternoon to ourselves, though. His parents took Rebecca, Eli, and the twins to their house for an afternoon of swimming at the pond. I love them so much, but the peace will be nice.”

“I’m glad Thomas’s parents have embraced Lillie and Mary. It’s like they have another set of grandparents.” Annie didn’t give voice to the rest of that thought. Daed and Mudder were always present in her thoughts. “It’s nice for them.”

“Let’s get these dishes washed so we can go out to the barn.” Miriam passed a casserole dish to Annie. “The sooner we get out there, the sooner David will have the chance to whisk you away on a walk and Thomas can take Emma home for a quiet afternoon alone.”

“And Josiah can take you for a buggy ride.” Annie grabbed another plate and wiped it dry, moving more quickly at the thought. “This afternoon we all get a chance to see what God has planned for us.”

What God wanted. Annie believed He wanted them to be wives and mothers and sisters and friends who were there for each other through it all.

“I’ll help. The kids are down for naps.”

To Annie’s surprise, Charisma stood in the doorway. She had taken the children into town to put gas in the van long before the service started. She said she wanted to start driving to work on Monday. To
Annie, it seemed a waste of her hard-earned tips. She could’ve spent the money on the children. But it wasn’t up to Annie. Besides, Charisma’s absence was for the best. Sarah’s visit had been enough of a distraction. “We can always use more help.”

“I would’ve served food too if you wanted.” A big smile on her face, Charisma lifted both arms and flexed like a fighter. “I’m back in shape as a waitress now.”

“No need, but we’ll take your help on the dishes.” Emma smiled broadly at the young woman. “Let’s take some iced tea and lemonade to the men first. They’re loading the benches. They’ll be parched.”

“Maybe I better let y’all do that part.” Charisma’s grin disappeared, replaced with an uncertain frown. “I don’t want to get in the way, being a what-you-call-it, you know, Englischer.”

Annie burst out laughing, Emma and Miriam with her. “It’s fine. The bishop and the deacons are gone. Only our men are out there loading up. They’ll welcome the visit.”

Our men. Annie wished it were so. Maybe David would have good news. Maybe they would finally overcome the stumbling block. Have a little faith, he’d said. The words still rankled. As if she hadn’t been the faithful one all along. She handed a pitcher to Charisma. “You take the lemonade. I’ll bring the tea. Emma, you and Miriam get the glasses.”

“Bossy!” Emma’s smile belied the words. “Let’s go.”

Taking the lead, Annie headed for the back door. Both hands on the heavy glass pitcher, she used her shoulder to push through the screen door.

“Stop.”

An enormous black gun appeared in her face, the thick snout even with her nose. Its presence blocked out everything. The sun. The wind. The future.

The soft, southern accent registered. It couldn’t be.

Logan was in jail.

Annie jerked back and the pitcher slipped from her hands. It crashed to the floor, the noise loud in her ears. Cool, sticky wet liquid lapped around her bare feet.

Not again.

“Annie, look what you’ve done! Now we’ll have to mop—”

The gun swung toward Emma. Annie staggered back and grabbed her sister’s arm. “It’s Logan McKee.”

His face bruised and his nose covered with dried blood, Logan pushed through the screen door. He still wore the orange jumpsuit from jail. One arm hung limp at his side.

“Logan!” Charisma whispered the name as if she couldn’t quite be sure he really stood in front of her. “What are you doing here? How…?”

“I came for you.” His bloody lips turned up in a smile. “You wouldn’t come to see me, so I had to come to see you. Whatever happens now, it’s your fault.”

“It’s not my fault you robbed a bakery.” Charisma slapped her hands on her hips and stood firm, her feet spread. “Listen here, Logan Derek McKee, I didn’t ask you to do nothing like this. These are good people. You can’t be barging in here pointing a gun at them. They took care of me and your babies.”

“Don’t Logan Derek McKee me.” His chin, covered with the wispy beginnings of a dark beard, trembled. “You made me love you. That’s what you did.”

“I didn’t make you do nothing you didn’t already wanna do.”

“I ain’t got time for arguing. I’m gonna get you out of here and I’m gonna take care of you and my babies.” He waved the gun around. “Back up, all of you.”

Annie wrapped a hand around Miriam’s arm. Emma grabbed her hand. Together, the three of them back-stepped into the kitchen. The sense that she had done this before overwhelmed Annie.
Step, step, step.
Finally they were up against the kitchen counter. The ragged breathing, the scent of fresh baked bread, the gun—it was all so familiar.

“How did you get here?” Only Charisma didn’t move. She remained rooted to the spot, the pitcher of tea still in her hands, blocking Logan from Annie, Miriam, and Emma. “You’re supposed to go to prison tomorrow.”

A tear trailed down his bruised cheek. “I had to come for you.”

“So you broke out of jail?” Charisma sounded as if she were scolding a small child instead of a man with a gun in his hand. “You idiot. You didn’t hurt Sergeant Parker or that nice Officer Bingham, did you?”

“I heard them talking about moving me to Lansing tomorrow. They take turns on Sundays—only Bingham was there and I owed him for messing me up when he arrested me.”

“Did you hurt him?” Charisma’s voice climbed higher with each word. Annie wanted to tell her to calm down, but she was afraid to draw attention to herself. “He’s a police officer. You added escaping and assaulting an officer to your charges. Instead of five years, it’ll be a hundred or something.”

“He hurt me worse than I did him.” Logan pointed at his bruised face. “How do you think I got this? Huh? I jumped him when he came to give me my lunch. Wrestled him down, grabbed his night stick, whacked him a good one, then sprayed him with his own pepper spray. He still ran after me, grabbed his gun from his desk, and grazed my arm.”

“How’d you get out here?”

“Hotwired a car in a church parking lot.”

“Lord have mercy,” Charisma whispered.

Logan eased into the open space between the prep table and the stove. “I’m not going to prison. I came for you and my babies. I’m taking you all far, far away from here. Where are they?”

“They’re napping.”

“Get them.”

“No.” Charisma set the pitcher on the table so hard the lemonade slopped over the side and splashed on the floor. More sticky wetness. “You’re not the boss of me no more. I’m not taking two babies on a wild chase with a fugitive from the law. I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid.”

“Yeah, you will.” Logan trained the gun on Charisma’s face. “You will. Move. All of you.”

Together, they sidestepped into the living room. Annie peeked at Logan’s face. He looked so determined, yet so frightened. Sometimes
fear made people do awful things. Sometimes love got so twisted around, a person couldn’t see the line between good and bad. Logan wasn’t bad. Just mixed up.
God, please soften Logan’s heart. Don’t let him hurt anyone. Especially the babies. He would never forgive himself. He still has a chance to be redeemed, doesn’t he? Please God, forgive him.

She sidled closer. “Logan, are you hungry? Do you need something to drink? I’m sure you didn’t get any dinner—”

“What is all this noise? You woke the babies!” Leah stomped down the stairs, a twin on each hip. Esther had a roly-poly fist in her mouth, slobber running down her cheeks, while Martha cried in a high pitched wail. “This is naptime around here…”