Annie's Truth (Touch of Grace) (20 page)

“He’s got some energy, doesn’t he?” John jerked his chin up to where the horse had stopped, its short breaths moving its nostrils.

“I’ve never seen such a pretty horse.” She turned to John at the same moment a loud
bang
of metal shot through the room.

John looked away from her to find the source of the sound. The horse came pounding through the crowd, hooves stomping on the dirt floor, his mane flying through the air and tail straight behind him.

Before John could take in what was happening, the sixteen-hand mass of horse flesh made a sharp turn, leaning to the right to make a dash for the exit. The only thing standing in the animal’s way was John and Hanna.

The thundering sound of hooves snapped him to attention. Hanna realized the danger and began to run. John caught her around the waist and pulled her to the side and into the crowd. Hanna swung around him and held on tight.

Feeling her warm body against him, John quickly created distance between them. He looked down at her as he pulled his hand away. “Are you all right?” He searched her face, waiting to hear her speak.

Hanna let out a huge breath, and then a few short breaths followed. “Got the wind…knocked out of me.”

“Let me help you.” John helped her stand and brushed away some dirt from her cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?” It was then he saw one familiar face and then another, and the circle that had gathered around them, still watching. “She’s fine, folks.”

“You should know; you got a close enough look,” David popped off, but John didn’t appreciate the humor. And if John didn’t know better, he sensed a bit of jealousy in David’s tone and in the way he looked at Hanna.

The crowd was moving too slowly for John, so he created a diversion. “Did they catch that horse?” He looked toward the open gate the horse must have run through and hoped everyone else would too. They mumbled and started to walk slowly in the direction the horse had run.

Isaac rushed over a moment too late, just as John began to ask Hanna if she was feeling better. “That all happened so fast. I didn’t know what hit you two.”

“What happened to you?” John wished his brother would have been by his side to have someone to vouch for the strange way the whole thing unfolded.

“Got caught up in the crowd, I guess.” He shrugged.

John narrowed his eyes. “You mean you ran with them.”

“Jah, maybe.” He lifted one side of his lips.

Hanna laid a hand on John’s arm. “Danke, John. If it weren’t for you, I could have been hurt by that wild animal.”

“It’s what anyone would have done in my place.” John turned away, ready to escape those penetrating blue eyes.

Hanna looked toward Isaac. “I don’t think so.” She turned her attention back to John. “Danke again.”

Isaac scratched his head. “Did I miss something?”

John nudged his brother with his elbow as he walked passed him. “Nothing important.”

The boys came up to them, ready to go explore. “Mary’s gonna make a doll that looks like Robert.” He bent his head way back to look up at John.

“Okay, then let’s go back to our booth. Gabriel, are you going to have her make one for you?” John was calculating the time he’d have to roam around by himself while the boys were waiting for the dolls.

“Yep.” Gilbert nodded. “I want a mouth on mine.”

“You know we don’t make faces on them,” Isaac threw in. “No graven images. What’s the verse?” He looked over to John.

“It’s the second commandment. You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.” It was a question so commonly asked among tourists John had it memorized and wondered why Isaac didn’t.

“Just the lips?” Gabriel pleaded.

“Why do you want lips more than anything else?” John wondered what his little mind was thinking.

“So he can talk to me.” He tilted his head as if John should know the answer.

“You’ll just have to use your imagination. And you have a good one, so that shouldn’t be hard.” John grinned, thinking of the detailed mud castles Gilbert had made at the mud sales.

When they got to the booth, the boys each claimed he wanted his doll first, and John told them the only way to decide was to flip a penny. Gilbert won and asked Mary for a mouth, which she politely refused.

“I don’t want one then.” Gilbert stuffed his hands in his pockets and pushed the felt hat down on his head.

“I’m gonna go walk around,” Isaac said to John, and turned toward the baked goods.

John watched the sulking Gilbert and put his hand on Robert’s shoulder. “Looks like your brother needs some time alone. Ask your sister if she’ll make one for you while we wait for Gilbert.”

“Please, sis,” Robert asked, and sat next to her so he could watch and give his input as to what went on his “Robert doll.”

Mary used a battery-operated sewing machine to make the body of each doll in two separate pieces. She put the right sides together and pinned the back and front together, and then sewed around them inside out. “Can he wear a red shirt?” Robert stared at her, waiting for her answer.

Mary looked up to John.

“We only wear black, so why wouldn’t your doll wear black if it’s you?” John hoped it would work. Whenever they came to places where there was diversity, it got their brains churning with ideas. They understood the rules but didn’t always understand why yet.

Robert shrugged and looked at John. “When’s Annie coming back?”

John and Mary glanced at one another as Robert waited, not knowing the depth his question created. “I’m not sure.”

“But she is coming back, right?”

John met Mary’s eyes then looked back at his brother. “Jah, she’ll come back.” It seemed impossible not to think of her. The questions from his family kept her constantly on his mind, and his answers were his own, not based on anything but his own guesses.

Mary gave John a sad smile then went back to her work tracing the patterns of a shirt, pants, suspenders, shoes, and a hat onto the black fabric and cut them out. Then she turned it right side out and put stuffing in through a two-inch hole, sewed up the gap, and stitched the pieces on.

“Are you done yet?” Robert sat on a chair as she worked, swinging his legs, waiting impatiently. Gilbert climbed up with him and watched.

Mary smiled. “I sewed on his shirt, pants, shoes, and hat, but if I don’t put on his suspenders, his pants might fall off.”

Robert chuckled and watched as the finishing touches were made. “There you go, little brother. What are you going to name him?”

“Gilbert.” He blew air into his cheeks, making them puff out.

John and Mary exchanged glances.

Robert took the doll and handed it to his brother.

Gilbert took the gift and stared at his brother. He slapped him on the knee. “Danke.” He slid off the chair and gave Mary a bear hug.

“You made him happy, Robert.” John commended his little brother with a smile.

“Yeah, it made me happy too.” He sat back and waited to watch Mary go through the doll-making process again.

John thought Robert’s words described the heart of the Amish culture as well as he’d ever heard it expressed. He wondered how Annie could have ever left it for the outside world.

 
Chapter Twenty-One
 

R
UDY TALKED
A
NNIE
into staying a couple more weeks. “Give the agency a chance, then go,” he’d advised. The phone call had come, and now as she sat in the social worker’s office, it seemed he was right in asking her to stay.

A woman walked in, pulled a sweater around her thick waist, and held out a pudgy hand. “I’m Mrs. Mason. And you are Annie Beiler?”

Annie nodded. “And this is Rudy Glick.” When she gestured to Rudy, he took Mrs. Mason’s hand. Annie glanced his way, trying to figure out his demeanor. Something had been said on the phone when he took the call. It couldn’t have been much due to confidentiality, but whatever it was, Rudy was in a somber mood.

The short, round woman sat down, scratched her red curls, and pursed her lips. “There has been a response to your registry, Ms. Beiler.”

“Annie. Call me Annie.” She asked the Lord for strength, not knowing why.

Mrs. Mason looked into her eyes and held on to a piece of paper at the tips with both hands. “Your birth mother has responded. She’s has given you permission to see all legal documents involving your birth and all other circumstances involved.”

“What other circumstances?” Annie felt a numbing in her fingers that traveled up her arms.

Mrs. Mason handed Annie a file. “This is the police report.” She paused when Annie did. “Or I can just tell you.”

The woman held her composure, but her gaze dropped, telling Annie it must be best that way. “Your mother gave you up because she had been through a traumatic experience. I want you to understand that. She was not much older than you when you were born.”

Annie couldn’t imagine giving up a child but tried to hear the explanation with open ears.

“Annie, your mother was raped.” Mrs. Mason looked at her intently.

Darkness slid across Annie’s mind. Her thoughts paralyzed. Then a thought crept in:
You’re tainted.
Then another:
Not worthy.
And the worst—
You’re different. You’ll never be good enough to go back now.

Rudy squeezed her hand. “Annie.”

She gazed at him, her focus darting from one eye to the other. His gray eyes blinked, bringing her into the moment—a moment she couldn’t bear.

“It’s hard news, Annie. I know. And I’m sorry.” Mrs. Mason’s compassionate gaze brought the tears.

Annie stood and walked to the door. She found her feet taking her to a bathroom. Locking the stall door, she slammed her back against the metal divider and slid down, crouching in the corner. She let the sobs come with the tears of humiliation and shame.
How could this be, Lord? Why did You let this happen to me?

A knock on the stall door made her flinch.

“Annie, come out. Let’s go home.”

Rudy’s voice was stern, filled with concern. With no hesitation, he rapped again. “Annie.”

“I’m here.” Annie pushed herself up to standing. The snap of the lock made her hesitate. She didn’t want to see his face. It was easier before he cared, before he got involved.

The door eased open, and Annie lifted her eyes to his for a second, just to show him she could. His expression surprised her. It was not filled with empathy but determination.

“Wash off your face and let’s go.”

A woman grabbing for a paper towel stared as Rudy slipped a file under his arm and reached across her to get a towel. He took Annie by the hand, and they walked down the plain, white hallways and worn, gray tile to his car. It all seemed so surreal.

They drove in silence, and when they reached the Glicks’s home, Rudy turned off the car and looked at her. “Annie, talk to me.”

She wiped her ruddy cheeks roughly with the back of her hand. “This isn’t what I came here for.”

Rudy let out a breath. “How could you have ever known?”

“Ach, Rudy. You have no idea,” she spouted harshly without intending to.

“No, I don’t. But I can imagine what this is doing to you.” He reached for her. “And I’m sorry.”

The feel of his touch—flesh touching flesh—annoyed her. Her tears of sorrow turned to anger toward her mother, toward the man who raped her, and toward herself for finding out. Why had she ever come to this place? John was right. Everyone was right for telling her not to leave. This was too hard. How could she ever make this right?

“I can’t be that person.” She looked to her lap in disgust.

“I know it doesn’t feel like it fits. You want it to go away. I wish it could.” His voice was sincere and trusting. She was so glad he was with her.

Annie reached for the file tucked by his seat. “Maybe it’s a mistake. If there’s a police record, then they would have come for me. Are there medical records?”

He pulled out the file. “If you want to find out, it’s all in here.”