Annie's Truth (Touch of Grace) (11 page)

“No, come look at mine.” He motioned with his head to the hall and walked to his room. “See, pretty boring compared to Essie’s, but I’m able to think.”

White walls and a black bedspread with big fluffy pillows calmed her. A picture of the Eiffel tower, a huge bridge that went over an endless body of water, and a calendar were the only objects covering the walls. Plain.

Annie sighed. “This is much better.” Annie gestured to the bridge. “Where is that?”

“Somewhere in Australia. Biggest expansion bridge made.” He stared at it as if seeing it for the first time.

“This is what you’re going to school to do?” Annie really wanted to sit on the comfortable-looking bed, but her upbringing prevented her. She switched her weight to the other foot.

Rudy pulled out the chair by his desk. “Here.”

He sat on the bed across from her, and Annie suddenly felt uncomfortable in his room with him alone.

“The door’s open.” He gestured toward the wide open doorway. “Like I’m going to make a move on an Amish girl,” he teased, reading her mind.

Annie blushed and took a seat. She glanced at the desk and noticed the numbers and formulas written on a page, a draft of a building on another. “This looks fascinating.” She turned her head to get a better look.

He turned the paper so she couldn’t see them. “It’s nothing.”

Annie widened her eyes. “Was that a home? It was as big as a barn. Bigger.”

“Dream home.” He grinned and shrugged. “You look tired.”

“I have some papers to read.” Exhausted from the ride, but even more so from all the draining emotions, she’d like nothing more than to sleep. “I should unpack.” She stood to get her handbag.

“I have a night class, and everyone else has commitments, so do whatever you want.”

Curious she asked, “What kind of commitments?”

“Dad’s working some overtime, Mom’s quilting tonight, and Essie should be studying too, but she’ll turn on the TV when Mom and Dad leave.”

Quilting sounded so familiar it hurt. “Essie has no rules?”

“She has them; she just doesn’t follow them. You might want to stay clear of her.”

Before she could ask why, he took a book from the desk and left, shutting the door behind him. She looked from the door to her handbag with all the paperwork she had for her search. She sat on the bed and went over them, then laid her head down just for a moment, and when she woke up, it was morning.

 
Chapter Ten
 

J
OHN SPLIT THE
stalk from the top to within a few inches of the ground and then cut the tobacco off at the bottom and placed it on a stick. As he ran the lath through the split, perspiration dripped down his forehead. He wiped his eyebrows with the back of his hand and placed an armful of tobacco across racks made for hauling.

The wagon was full, which was what he’d been working for. “Amos, I can take this load in.” John pulled off his gloves and shoved them into his back pocket.

“
Gut
.” Amos almost smiled. “Good of you to help us, John.”

Eli scoffed and turned away. John understood Eli’s frustration but didn’t mean for it to be this way; he just wanted to help and be close to the Beilers. Eli was the oldest son and would normally be doing the hauling, along with other tasks that John was doing.

“I always help you with the tobacco crop, Amos. And you’re good to let us borrow your mules in return.” It was no lie, but they both knew he was there for more reason than the crop.

“I thought you might not want to be here this time.” Amos never met his eyes. He always seemed distracted or bothered by conversation. And he never mentioned Annie.

“I wanted to,
especially
this time.” John took a chance and asked what he wanted to know. “Do you hear from her?” He looked at Amos now, searching for any sign that might tell him something, anything about her.

Lord, let her be safe.

He had prayed for a hedge of protection to surround her, and he was a believing man, so he had to know that she was okay. Amos took his time to answer, waiting and walking beside John to adjust the horses for hauling. “I don’t speak of her, John.”

Just like Amos to not so much as flinch or give a substantial answer. John laid a hand on Otto, Annie’s favorite horse, and tried to refocus.

Amos walked away, which surprised John, but it didn’t let him down all the same. Amos was dismissing her before she had even decided whether to return. Annie’s fate was sealed in Amos’s mind, but John prayed she would come back as quickly as she left. He tried not to be selfish in his desires, but the thought of her finding a life without him was more than he could bear.

Annie wouldn’t be afraid. She was one who trusted in the Lord in all things, even better than he did. And she also was one of the few who didn’t have a curiosity about the outside world, as so many her age did. John had been curious from time to time, but Annie had drawn him back to their simple ways with reminders of the temptations that never cease once you indulge.

She’d say, “Not that I think you’d fall onto the wrong path, John Yoder. You’re just not that way.” And her belief in him had made John live up to her expectations. John stepped up onto the wagon and pulled himself onto the bench. Amos’s response had given him hope that Sarah had heard from Annie.

As John pulled up to the tobacco barn, Augustus came over to the wagon. “Another one already?” He reached over into the wagon and began to feel the leaves. He bent a brittle leaf between his fingers. “Good color.”

“Just a touch of yellow,” John added. “Is your mamm in the kitchen?”

“Jah, making honey bread.” Augustus handed a bundle to Thomas, who struggled to see over the tall leaves. The two of them began to unload, with Samuel doing what he could, which wasn’t much.

“I’ll be back.” John made his way quickly to the house. He wasn’t one to stop for a break without the others, but this wasn’t about him, and he needed privacy. He knocked twice and eased the squeaky door open.

Sarah turned, gave a slow smile, and went back to kneading the hard dough that she had left unattended so it would dry out just enough to develop a top layer of crust.

“Would you like a drink, John?”

“Jah, danke.” As he walked across the wooden floor, his boots thumped. He took a glass of water from her. She was unusually quiet, serious about her work, not the talkative woman he knew her to be. He might be wrong to ask, knowing she wasn’t herself, but couldn’t stop himself.

“Have you heard from Annie?”

She kept pounding away at the large mound of dough, unfazed. Sprinkling some flour, she dug her fist into the white dusted bundle and then wiped off one hand and pulled on the handle of a cupboard. Reaching to the back, she took out a letter and handed it to him. Without a word, she started again with the bread.

The crisp paper crinkled in his hands as he opened the brown stationery with small crushed flowers in the corners, a gift Frieda had made for Annie last Christmas, only one page. Leaning against the counter, John became engulfed in her world, and finding what he needed most, he was satisfied.

Abraham,

I’m writing to you because I didn’t know whether anyone else would accept my letter. Please let John and everyone else know that I am with the Glicks and am fine. I am going into the city tomorrow to talk with the Inter-County Adoption Board to help me start a search. The Glicks’s oldest son, Rudy, will help me, as I am lost in this place of speed, crowds, and complicated “conveniences.” I hope to find answers and be home soon. I love and miss you all.

Annie

When he finished, Sarah faced him with tears trickling down her cheeks. She wiped one side of her face with the back of a powdered hand. “She mentioned you.”

John handed the letter back to her. Sarah took it with a shaky hand and replaced it in the back of the cupboard.

“I wondered how she could leave me. It sounds selfish to say that, but I know I could never have left her.” He looked out the window to see Amos talking with the boys as they unloaded the last of the bundles.

“I know.” She knuckled her fists and started kneading again.

Hanna popped in through the back door in a huff. Her wide eyes rested on John. “Well, it’s good to see you again, John Yoder.”

Hearing his names together reminded him all too clearly of Annie, and if he wasn’t mistaken, Hanna’s tone was much the same as well. “Hanna.” He gave a small nod her way and then turned to Sarah. “I should get back to work.” He pulled his gloves from his pocket and took a step forward.

Hanna latched on to his arm. “I don’t see you for days, and then you leave the minute I lay eyes on you.” She walked him two steps back to the table and lifted the glass he’d used. “We have lemonade, don’t we, Mamm?”

Sarah shook her head, squinting as she went about tearing the dough into quarters to put into pans.

Hanna must have known she’d misspoken when John looked to the floor, knowing it was Amos’s favorite drink and that Annie usually made it.

“Well then, tea. Sweet tea, if you like.”

John caught her arm as she walked past him to the cooler. “The water was enough, Hanna.”

As he took a step away from the door she spoke again. “Have you heard from her?” She anxiously rubbed her hands together, waiting for his response.

“No. Have you?” He suddenly felt hopeful, thinking Annie might contact Hanna as well.

Hanna crossed her arms. “None of us have. It’s like she’s disappeared.”

Sarah stared at Hanna, hard, saying nothing about the letter in the cupboard. “She’s doing something no one here approves of, Hanna. That would lead a person to be hesitant to reach out.”

“Jah, Mamm. I hadn’t thought of it that way.” She walked over to John and circled her arm into his.

Sarah turned away as if she hadn’t seen the captured opportunity and then glanced at the cupboard with the letter. She grabbed the envelope and squeezed it, her face taut, as if she could break down. Then she released it and shut the cabinet door, holding her hand there as if to keep everything in and let nothing out.

 
Chapter Eleven