Deadly Echoes (16 page)

I thanked her and hung up.

Wynter's friend, Zac Weikel, had come to Sanctuary with her while she was looking for her brother. He and Esther had formed a friendship, and now he returned every so often to visit his old friend, Wynter, and his new friend, Esther. I liked him but didn't know him very well. Wynter told me once that he'd been instrumental in helping her find her brother.

Now what? Maybe Mike Templeton would turn out to be the person who would turn things around. Unless Doug was sending him to let me down easy. If that was the case, I'd definitely call Anson Bentley. He might be the only hope I had left. All the doors seemed to be closing, but I was still convinced Hannah's death was connected to my parents'. I couldn't walk away until I knew the truth.

Janet called from downstairs to let us know dinner was ready. Steeling myself, I left my room and knocked on Cicely's door. Surprisingly, she flung it open, brushed past me, and went downstairs without saying a word. I guess her hunger was stronger than her dislike for me.

Conversation at dinner was limited to Janet and me. We talked about my return to school next week and how things were going at the clinic.

“I've taken your advice to heart about finding some help,” Janet said. “If you think of anyone who might be interested in working part time during the day at the clinic, will you let me know?”

I nodded. “You know, Pastor Troyer's daughter, Ruth, might be willing to help you. She loves animals.”

“She's not in school?”

“No, she dropped out when she turned sixteen. To be honest, I didn't fight it. She wasn't good in school.”

Janet frowned. “She always seemed a bit . . . slow.”

“She might be a little slower than some of my other students,
but she's not stupid. She's just extremely shy and a little naive. I tried to get her interested in school, but it wasn't for her. I know that sounds odd coming from a teacher, but she had no interest in anything except reading and animals. She helps out at home, but I imagine she's bored silly. Working with you might be just the thing.”

Janet nodded. “Do you want me to talk to her, or do you want to approach her?”

“We should probably ask her father first. I'll see him as soon as I can.”

“Great. Let me know what he says.” Janet looked sideways at Cicely, who was doing her best to let us know she wasn't the least bit interested in our conversation. “How about another muffin, Cicely? I kept them in the oven so they'd stay warm.”

She nodded. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

I had to suppress a smile, even though the whole situation with Cicely wasn't the least bit humorous. She wasn't usually this proper, and rarely did she thank anyone for anything.

Janet got up and took the remaining muffins out of the warm oven. She handed one to Cicely and then held the tray in front of me. I was tempted to say, “Yes, please. Thank you,” but I didn't. Cicely would think I was making fun of her, and that wasn't my intention.

I put butter on my muffin and let the flavors of apples and cinnamon explode in my mouth. I wondered if I'd ever be able to match Janet's culinary skills.

An idea suddenly popped into my head. “I just had a thought,” I said to Janet. “Why don't we go to Sanctuary Mennonite this Sunday? Then I can talk to Pastor Troyer about Ruth.”

“Sounds good. I haven't gone to church with Esther for a few weeks. I've missed it.”

That finally got Cicely's attention. Her head shot up and she stared at us. “Are you talking about that old-fashioned church? Don't we belong to Agape Fellowship?”

I struggled to force back a sharp retort. Since we'd been home, we'd only gone to church twice. One of those visits was Hannah's funeral. The other was a regular Sunday service, and Cicely had argued about going. Yet now she suddenly considered herself a member of my church?

“I belong to Agape,” I said evenly. “I don't remember you placing membership. But I also visit Sanctuary Mennonite frequently. I have friends who go there.”

“I'm not wearing one of those weird dresses or putting some goofy thing on my head,” Cicely said in a whiny voice. “You can't make me do that.”

“I have no intention of forcing you to do any such thing. Visitors don't have to wear prayer coverings or dress any particular way. However, we will wear modest dresses so our presence won't be distracting to anyone.”

Her eyes widened. “But you let me wear jeans to Agape.”

“Yes, it's okay to wear jeans there. But it's not appropriate at Sanctuary Mennonite.”

She started to say something else, but I held my hand up to stop her. “You have a very nice dark blue jumper. Wear that with your white turtleneck. You look very pretty in that outfit.”

Cicely's huge sigh showed her exasperation with my suggestion, but she didn't argue. Instead, she got up, carried her bowl and plate to the sink, rinsed them, and put them in the dishwasher. Then she flounced out.

“Well, it could have been worse,” Janet said, once she heard Cicely's door slam upstairs.

“At least she's talking to me.”

“I guess that's a blessing.”

I popped the rest of my muffin into my mouth, sorry to be finishing it. “Janet, there's an odd noise on the phone,” I said after I swallowed. “Have you noticed it?”

She nodded. “You mean that clicking sound?”

“Yes. I've heard it several times now. At first I thought Cicely was listening in on the extension, but she's not.”

“I forgot to mention it, but I had a problem with the phones while you were in Kansas City. A guy from the phone company showed up and said they needed to upgrade our service. Something about new lines. He told me we might notice some noise until the work is completed.” She frowned. “I'm not sure how long we have to wait, but eventually the line should clear.”

I shrugged. “Okay. It's not interfering with anything. Just annoying.” I picked up my dishes and took them to the sink. “You go watch TV and relax. I'll take care of the dishes.”

“You know what? I'll take you up on that.” Janet yawned. “For some reason I'm beat tonight.” She smiled at me. “If I fall asleep, will you wake me up so I don't miss my favorite show?”

“I will. I promise. If I'm not too tired, I might even watch it with you.”

Although I didn't watch much television, I enjoyed this particular show about a family of police officers. They prayed together, and I really liked the characters.

Janet left the room, and I began loading the dishwasher. It had been a long and difficult day. I prayed tomorrow would be better. But as I worked, I couldn't shake an odd feeling that something dark was lurking around the next corner.

Saturday was uneventful. I worked on lesson plans, preparing for school on Monday. The night before, a winter storm had swept through, dumping about six inches of snow. Several of the men in Sanctuary got out and began clearing sidewalks and streets. By Saturday afternoon, the snow had been pushed off to the side, giving everyone safe passage whether they drove a vehicle, a buggy, or made their way on foot.

Sunday morning Janet, Cicely, and I walked to Sanctuary Mennonite Church since it was close to our house. As we sat next to Esther, several of my students came over to say hello. We saw the Ostranders, but they didn't acknowledge us. William wouldn't look our way, and his wife, Trina, acted as if we were invisible. I caught Jeremiah's eye once and smiled. He gave me a brief nod but then turned his head. I had no idea what his father had said to him or what his punishment had been, but I prayed that the situation on Friday hadn't ruined our relationship or made it impossible for Jeremiah to continue his studies.

Even though she'd complained about going, Cicely seemed
curious about the Mennonite church. The women sat on one side and the men on the other. Agape Fellowship had a praise and worship team with instruments, but there was only one person playing guitar in the Mennonite service. Cicely would have been shocked to learn that the guitar player had been added just six months earlier. At one time, the church taught that using instruments during worship was wrong, since they believed there was no mention of them in the New Testament. However, Jonathon Wiese had changed Pastor Troyer's mind about this point. Pastor Troyer had addressed the congregation before the change was made. “Why would God find instruments pleasant in Old Testament times and then suddenly not want them anymore?” he asked. “We must remember that the division between the Old Testament and New Testament was added by men. Even though we are now under grace through Jesus Christ, the story of God is seamless. We must not elevate traditions over the nature of God. There is nothing evil about instruments used to praise the name of the Lord.”

Even though his explanation satisfied most of his congregation, at first there were a few older members who struggled with the change. Slowly but surely they began to accept it. Esther had been instrumental in bringing most of them around. One of the church's oldest parishioners, Gussie Brinkerhoff, even smiled now when the young guitar player came up to the platform. She'd been violently opposed to the change at first. The young man, Henry Shultz, played beautifully, and his soft strumming was so anointed it was hard to argue with his addition to the service.

Pastor Troyer's sermon was about love in action. “Love is not an abundance of words,” he said. “Love helps. Love is there when a brother or sister has trouble. Love finds a way to hold them up and bring them through their difficulty. James points out that
saying to someone in need, ‘Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth it profit?'” He closed his Bible and looked out at the congregation. “How many times do we promise to pray for someone when the answer to their need is in our possession? Is it love to pray and not respond? I do not believe it is. God does not surround us with vain promises. He is our ever-present help in time of need. I encourage you to be the hand of God to your neighbors, and not just to those who attend your church or believe the way you do. Love doesn't ask for perfection before it reaches out. Remember that it isn't judgment that leads men to God. It is His love and forgiveness in action. For us to be like God, we must love the same way.”

After the sermon one of the elders came up to give the closing prayer, and then we were dismissed. I went up to the front of the church to talk to Pastor Troyer. I waited until he finished talking to a couple who had reached him first. After they walked away, he smiled at me.

“Why, Sarah Miller. I am happy to see you. How are you doing?”

I smiled at the tall, thin minister with a salt-and-pepper beard that seemed to underline his wonderful smile. Although he couldn't really be called a handsome man, the love of God shone through him, making him someone people felt drawn to.

“We're doing okay, Pastor. Thank you. And thank you so much for all the wonderful food you and your wife brought to our house. I so appreciated your kind note. It meant a lot to me.”

“I am glad. I left a message with Janet to tell you that if you ever needed to talk, I was here for you.”

“I got it, and I appreciate it very much.”

“Is there something I can help you with today?”

“It's about Ruth, Pastor. I know how much she loves animals. Janet could use some help during the day at the clinic. Is it possible that Ruth might be interested in working for her part time?”

Pastor Troyer's smile widened. “Oh my. I believe she would love that. She desperately needs something to do. I will talk to her this afternoon and then get back to you and Janet. Would that be all right?”

“Wonderful. Thank you.”

I started to leave, but he stopped me. “Sarah, I am somewhat concerned about Jeremiah Ostrander. Is he doing well in school?”

I nodded. “As well as he can. I wish his parents would let me teach him sign language. It would help him to communicate better with the world around him.”

He frowned. “I wasn't aware that Jeremiah was learning sign language.”

“Only a few words so far. With all the other children in class, I don't have much time to teach him. If his parents would help, it could make a huge difference.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me. If you do not mind, I would like to talk to his parents about this issue.”

I nodded. “That would be wonderful. Any help you can give would be greatly appreciated.” I studied his expression. “But that's not why you asked about him, is it?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “The boy seems morose and discouraged. Although I cannot point to any one example, I am concerned about the way his father treats him. William appears to be very harsh and critical of Jeremiah.” He looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Am I wrong about this?”

Although I made it a policy not to talk about my students or their parents to others in the community, I made an exception and told Pastor Troyer about the incident at the mine.

“So Jeremiah was only trying to protect Cicely?” he said.

“Yes, but William was furious and intent on punishing him.”

“He always seems angry with the boy. I confess I do not understand.”

I hesitated a moment before saying, “I think I do.”

Pastor Troyer's forehead wrinkled with concern. “Will you please share your reasoning with me?”

I nodded. “Sometimes parents, especially fathers, carry guilt or anger if their children aren't perfect. Unfortunately, they can lash out at the child. I think that's what's happening here. One of William's sons left him and the other has hearing loss.”

Pastor Troyer's eyes widened. “Oh my. That makes perfect sense. I must confess that sometimes I feel guilty about Ruth. I mean, I do not see her as disabled, but I wonder why she could not do better in school. And why she seems so withdrawn.” He shook his head. “However, I do not feel anger. Just concern.”

“William's concern comes out a different way. Unfortunately, it won't help Jeremiah. It only makes it harder for him.” I smiled at him. “Ruth is a wonderful young woman. She just hasn't found her calling yet. Maybe working with Janet will spark something in her.”

“I suspect you are correct.” He patted my shoulder. “Thank you so much, Sarah. I must say how happy I am that you found your calling. You do so much to help the young people in our school. We are truly blessed.”

“I don't seem to be helping my niece much. I covet your prayers, Pastor. She's hurt and angry, and I'm trying to find a way to help her.”

“You will find it,” he said with sincerity. “I have no doubt of that. But I will certainly pray for both of you.”

“Thank you.”

“About the incident at the mine. Have you explained the truth to Brother Ostrander?”

“That's my intention. If I can catch them before they leave, that is.”

Pastor Troyer smiled. “But his busybody pastor is holding you up. I am sorry, Sarah. Please hurry along and speak to William. And if I can do anything to help . . .”

“Thank you. I'll certainly call on you.”

“And I will let you know Ruth's response to your kind offer. I am certain she will be excited.”

I said good-bye and joined Janet and Cecily. “He thinks Ruth will be very interested,” I told Janet. “He's going to talk to her and let us know.”

“Oh, thank you,” Janet said with a sigh. “Maybe this will be a blessing for both of us.”

We put on our coats and stepped outside. The Ostranders were just getting into their buggy. I took a deep breath, summoned up my courage, and hurried over to them before they could leave. Trina looked away as I approached. William, who was just getting into the buggy, glared at me. For a moment, I almost turned back, but my concern for Jeremiah kept me going.

“William,” I said, trying not to be intimated by the look he gave me, “I need to tell you something. Cicely admitted that it was her idea to go to the mine, not Jeremiah's. In fact, he only followed her because he was concerned for her safety. I felt you should know that what happened wasn't his fault. He was just trying to help.”

William's expression didn't change, but Trina turned around and met my gaze. Taking that as encouragement, I continued. “I want to apologize for my niece and ask for your understanding. Losing her mother was very traumatic. She . . . she's been mak
ing poor decisions, and it seems she pulled Jeremiah into this last situation. I hope you will forgive her. I want you to know that I'm trying as hard as I can to help her. I covet your prayers.”

This time the compassion in Trina's face was clear, and I smiled at her.

“Jeremiah is a wonderful young man, and I'm sorry Cicely got him into trouble,” I continued. “I . . . I guess that's all I have to say.” I looked at Jeremiah, who stared at me with an expression I couldn't interpret. “I hope to see you in school tomorrow, Jeremiah.” William just continued to glower at me, so I turned to go.

“Thank you, Sarah,” Trina said. “It was good of you to explain the truth to us.”

I looked back and found her smiling at me. “Thank you, Trina. Jeremiah has been a good friend to Cicely. I'll do everything I can to keep something like this from happening again.”

“Your niece needs correction,” William said gruffly. “You do not seem capable of providing it. Please keep her away from my son. As I've already said, if you cannot do that, we will remove him from your school.”

With that, he urged his horse on and rode away. Every Conservative Mennonite family I dealt with through the school showed me nothing but Christian kindness, but William was another matter. His rudeness and judgmental attitudes were an antithesis to the gentle disposition of the other parents.

I went back to where Janet and Cicely waited for me. Esther stood next to Janet. When I reached them, Esther took my arm.

“I am so sorry William spoke so harshly,” she said. “He is a man with a great burden.”

“He's a jerk,” Cicely said. She frowned at me. “Why did you let him talk to you like that?”

“My concern is for Jeremiah, Cicely,” I said. “He loves school. Maybe William was wrong, but I had to decide what was most important. Protecting Jeremiah meant more to me than protecting my feelings.”

Esther smiled at her. “Sarah is right, Cicely. And as far as William is concerned, remember that most of the time people who are ‘jerks' are that way for a reason. Everyone has their own burden to bear.” She pulled her cape closer as a cold gust of wind blew past us. “Perhaps we all need to get home.”

“Why don't you come over and have lunch with us?” Janet said. “We'd love to have you.”

“Oh, thank you, my friend, but Wynter and Reuben are taking me to lunch in Fredericktown today. Maybe another time?”

“Of course,” Janet said. She gave her friend a big hug.

“Thank you for your kind words,” I said. “And please keep us in your prayers. I don't want William's attitude to cause trouble for Jeremiah at school.”

“You mean his father might really keep him out?” Cicely asked, her eyes wide.

I nodded. “Yes, Cicely. Sometimes our actions can hurt the people we care about.”

She stared at me for a moment and then looked away. Another blast of wind convinced me we needed to get home. I gave Esther a quick hug, and we turned to leave. Suddenly, Cicely ran back and wrapped her arms around the elderly woman, who looked surprised and pleased by the touching gesture.

“You are a good girl,” she said to Cicely after she let her go. “I am pretty smart about people, and I see what a wonderful heart you have. I am so glad we get to be friends.”