Restless Hearts (4 page)

“Why not?” He shot the question at her. “You admit you came to get to know your father's family. Why not your mother's?”

Her lips tightened into a firm line. She was probably thinking this wasn't his business, but he intended to know the truth if he had to stand here all night.

“Because they rejected her.” The words burst out of her. “My mother. They turned away from her because she married an outsider. Why would I want a relation
ship with them now? They haven't bothered about me all these years.”

“That's not how it was.” He remembered all he'd heard, all he'd known. “She's the one who left. She deserted them, not the other way around, and they've never recovered from that.”

“How do you know so much about it?” Suspicion edged her tone.

Emma had only been three when her sister left, but she'd remembered how her mother had aged overnight, how all the happiness seemed to go out of the house with Hannah. And he remembered how she'd cried in his arms when she'd told him she couldn't do the same thing to her parents that her sister had done.

He stiffened. Some things Fiona didn't have the right to know, especially that.

“It's a small community,” he said. “I don't think you realize how small. I've been a friend of the family for a long time. I know how much the Stolzfus family grieved when Hannah left. I don't want to see them hurt again.”

“I don't want to hurt them. I don't want to have anything to do with them.” She thrust her hands through her reddish-blond mane as if she'd pull it out in her frustration. “Can't you just accept that?”

He watched her steadily, trying to read the truth in those gray eyes. Did she really believe what she was saying?

“No,” he said slowly. “I can't accept that. How can I, when all of your actions have brought you to a place where you're bound to run into them? You say it's not inten
tional, and maybe that's so. But the results are the same, and people I care about are already hurting as a result.”

“I'm sorry.” She stood very straight, facing him, her face pale and set. “Sorry if this hurts them, and sorry you don't believe me. But they rejected my mother, and—”

“Will you stop saying that?” He took a step toward her, as if his very nearness might convince her to believe him. “They did not turn her away.”

Her face was like stone. “I read about the Amish, once I was old enough to understand that's what my mother had been. I read about how they shun people who don't do what they're supposed to.”

“That proves the old saying, doesn't it?” He sighed in frustration. Did he have to give the woman a crash course in what it meant to be Amish? “‘A little learning is a dangerous thing.' It's true that someone might be separated from the congregation to help him see the error of his ways, but that doesn't apply in this case.”

“What do you mean?” Doubt flickered in her face.

“Hannah was seventeen when she left, not yet a baptized member of the church, so she didn't break any vows by what she did. I'm sure her parents didn't approve of her choice, but if she'd stayed, they would have made peace with it. They never had the chance. If she'd come back, anytime, they probably would have welcomed her.”

Fiona shook her head stubbornly. “How can you say that? They never attempted to get in touch with her after she left. And after she died, they never tried to find me. My whole life, I've never heard a word from them.”

Her pain reached out and grabbed his heart, and for a moment he couldn't speak. The urge to comfort her was so strong he had to fight it back. He could pity her, yes, but his loyalties lay elsewhere.

“Fiona, what makes you think they knew you existed?”

He saw that hit her, saw the doubt and pain in her eyes, and thought he'd be a long time regretting that he'd put it there. But it had to be done. This was a bad situation, and an impulsive act on her part could make it even worse.

He shook his head. “I'm sorry,” he said again. “Could be you think I'm interfering, and maybe I am. But the best thing you can do now is to stay away from the family. You don't begin to understand them, and you can't judge them by your California standards. Just leave them alone, before you cause each other more pain than you can bear.”

T
wenty-four hours had passed since that difficult confrontation with Ted, and Fiona still hadn't shaken off the feelings it had brought on. She dried the few dishes that sat in the dish drainer, glancing out the kitchen window as she did so.

It was dusk already. Yellow light glowed from the windows of the few houses behind hers, partially obscured by the trees, looking distant and lonely. If she'd been looking for privacy when she came here, she'd certainly found it.

In more ways than one, it seemed. The carpenters hadn't turned up again today, and when she'd gone to the store to speak to Ruth about it, she found that the quilters were missing as well.

Ruth had been sympathetic, but her only advice had been to be patient. Sooner or later, the situation would resolve itself. Until then, there was no point in pressing.

She could admire the older woman's patience, but not emulate it. The need to get on with things drove her to pace across the kitchen and back again.

Lord, I don't know what to do. Was Ted right about me? Did I really come here because I wanted to be accepted by my mother's family? If so, it looks as if Your answer to that is no. Please, guide me now.

She blinked back unaccustomed tears, appalled at herself. There was little point in crying over something that had been over and done with before she was born. She couldn't influence it now.

“And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”

The verse from Romans had always resonated in her heart, but how did she even know that God had called her here? She'd told herself she was following God's leading for her life when she'd made the decision, but if Ted was right about her, maybe she'd only been following her own unconscious desires.

She hung the dish towel on the wooden rack, aligning it as neatly as if that were the most important thing in the world right now. Well, maybe not important, but at least it was something she could control, unlike everything else that had happened lately.

A noise from the unpaved drive that ran behind the house startled her, sending her pulse beating a little more rapidly. Someone was there, but she didn't expect anyone. She went quickly to the door, pulling
aside the lace curtain that screened the glass panel so she could peer out.

If a UFO had landed, she couldn't have been more surprised. An Amish buggy had pulled up next to the back step. The horse dropped its head to nibble at the sparse grass. A slim girl in a black cape slid down, turning to say something to the person who held the reins. In a moment he was down, too, and both of them headed toward the door.

They stepped into the pool of light from the lamp above the door. Young, both of them, probably not more than sixteen. She'd never seen either of them before.

She took a breath. If the Amish community intended to tell her to leave, they certainly wouldn't send two teenagers. She opened the door.

“Hello. I'm Fiona Flanagan. Are you looking for me?”

“Yes, we come to see you.” The girl, who apparently was the spokesperson, gave a short nod, her dark bonnet bobbing. She had a pretty, heart-shaped face, a pert, turned-up nose and a pair of lively blue eyes. “I am Rachel Stolzfus. We are cousins.”

“Cousins?” For a moment she could only gape at the girl, and then she stepped back, holding the door wide. “Please, come in. I'm sorry, did you say you are my cousin?”

“Cousin, yes.” The girl, Rachel, came in and then spun toward her, her black cape swinging out. “This is my friend Jonah Felder.”

The boy nodded, flushed to the tips of his ears. He
entered, but stood just inside the door, as if ready to bolt back out in an instant.

“I'm happy to meet both of you.” And more than a little puzzled. “Won't you sit down?” She gestured toward the straight-backed kitchen chairs. “I'm afraid the rest of the house isn't ready for visitors.”

Rachel shook her head at the offer of seats. “We cannot stay long. We are on our way home from visiting Jonah's parents.”

She took off her bonnet, though, revealing corn-silk blond hair parted in the center and pulled back into a knot that was covered by a prayer cap.

“But I had to stop and see my new cousin.” Her eyes sparkled. “I wanted to be the first, except for Aunt Emma and my grandmother.”

Something tightened inside Fiona at that. Her grandmother hadn't even wanted to look at her, much less speak to her. Still, that wasn't Rachel's fault.

“I'm glad you did, but I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble.”

“No one will guess that we stopped here.” She darted a glance toward Jonah, as if commanding his silence. Her black cape swung open, revealing the deep rose of the dress she wore beneath.

Fiona's heart clenched. “Your dress is the same shade as the rose in my quilt pieces.”

Rachel brushed the full skirt with her hand. “Maybe my aunt Hannah had a dress like this. It's only after joining the church that women wear the
dark colors. When a garment has no further use, it is cut up for quilting.”

“I see.” She did see, in a way. A picture of the mother she'd never known was beginning to form in her mind—a smiling girl whose rose dress brought out the roses in her cheeks. “Tell me, how are we related?”

“My father, Daniel, was younger brother to your mother, Hannah.” Rachel beamed. “We are cousins. So you see, it is right for me to call on you.”

It sounded as if she were trying to convince herself. “Is that what your parents would say?” The last thing she needed was to cause a fight over encouraging Rachel's teenage rebellion.

Rachel shrugged. “Not exactly. Everyone is waiting for my grandfather to decide how we should act. But I didn't want to wait.”

Anger spurted up at Rachel's description of the family's reaction. Rachel's grandfather—her grandfather, too—would decide whether the rest of the family should speak to her. She'd told herself she didn't want anything to do with them, so why did that hurt?

“Rachel, I appreciate your coming to see me, but I don't want to get you into trouble. Maybe you should go.”

Jonah shuffled his feet. “Ja, Rachel. It is time we were home.”

Rachel tossed her head. “Some things I can decide for myself. Besides, Ted Rittenhouse is your friend, and he is an old friend to my family, too. He and my aunt Emma courted when they were young, they did.”

That was a tidbit of information about Ted she'd have to consider later.

“I'm happy you came, but maybe you should get on home. It'll be night soon.” The thought of them out on a dark highway in that buggy sent a chill down Fiona's spine. That couldn't be safe. “I hope we'll meet again.”

A loud rap on the door put a period to her words. Rachel grabbed Jonah's hand, and both of them looked as if they'd been caught raiding the pantry.

Somehow, even through the curtain, there was no mistaking that tall, broad figure. She gave them a reassuring smile and opened the door. It was Ted, of course.

“I wasn't expecting you.” That was an understatement. Ted had a way of showing up at the most inconvenient times.

“No, I guess not.” Ted stepped inside, not waiting for an invitation. “And you two weren't expecting me either, I'll bargain.”

He frowned at the two teenagers, but instead of looking intimidated, as Fiona anticipated, Rachel gave him a saucy smile. “Not expecting, no. But we are not doing anything wrong, Mr. Policeman.”

“Your parents might not agree to that.”

Rachel pouted, obviously sure of her relationship with him. “You won't tell. Everyone knows the kinds of things you got up to when you were our age.”

Was that actually a twinkle in Ted's steely blue eyes? “I might have to arrest you for blackmailing an officer of the law, Miss Rachel.”

“We were on our way out.” Jonah tugged at Rachel's sleeve. “I will see Rachel safe home, I will.”

Rachel let herself be led to the door. “I will see you again, Cousin Fiona. Soon.”

“I'll look forward to it.”

She tried to ignore the disapproving look Ted sent her way. This was not any of his business, no matter how much he might think otherwise.

She went to the door to see them off, and Ted followed the teens outside. “You have your lights and reflectors on properly, Jonah?”

The boy nodded, climbing up to the buggy. Fiona watched from the doorway as Ted walked around to the back of the buggy, apparently double-checking the orange reflective triangle and the blinking red warning light that must have worked off some sort of battery when Jonah flipped it on.

“All right, then.” He came back around and smacked the horse on its rump. “Get along home, you two.”

Fiona heard Rachel giggle as Jonah slapped the reins, and the buggy moved slowly off toward the road. Regret slid through her. Would Rachel come back? It hardly seemed likely if her parents heard about this little visit.

She stepped out onto the back stoop. “You won't tell Rachel's parents about this, will you? She didn't mean any harm.”

“No. I won't.” He planted one foot on the low step and leaned against the railing. The soft glow from the light over the door caught them in its small circle,
picking up glints of gold in Ted's thick brown hair. “And you don't need to tell me this wasn't your idea. I know full well it was Rachel's.”

At least he didn't sound angry, with the kids or with her. “I was—well, astonished. I didn't realize Amish kids had that much freedom.”

“The rumspringa,” he said. “I suppose you don't know about that.”

She folded her arms across her chest, drawing her sweater close around her.

“Tell me about it.”

“It's a time when Amish teenagers get to taste the outside world, generally when they're between sixteen and twenty. Sowing wild oats, I suppose you might say. A time when they go courting, too.”

It flashed through her mind, then, what Rachel had said about Ted courting her aunt. Flashed through, and was quickly dismissed. She didn't know him well enough to ask him about his personal life, even though he didn't hesitate to intrude in hers.

“They seem too young for that.”

He shrugged. “They'll probably be married by the time they're in their early twenties. But before they are baptized into the church, they have the chance to explore the world a little. It's a way to make sure the Amish life is really what they want.”

“So it wasn't that bad—Rachel coming to see me?”

He frowned. “That's another thing altogether. If her parents forbade her to see you, she shouldn't
disobey. And they wouldn't appreciate your encouraging her.”

“I didn't. How could I possibly encourage it? I had no idea who she was until she explained the connection. She was just curious about me. Haven't you ever been curious?”

His gaze rested on her for a long moment, and her breath seemed to catch in her throat at the warmth in his eyes.

“Yes, I have been curious.” For a moment she almost thought he'd add,
about you
. “But I am not sixteen. Or Amish.”

“You just said her parents gave her more freedom now.” She rushed the words. It was safer to keep the conversation on Rachel, not on Ted, because otherwise she might read too much into the way he was looking at her.

“That doesn't mean they don't worry about her. About the influence of English people on her.”

“English?”

“World people. Those who are not Amish.” His expression lightened. “The world calls the Amish Pennsylvania Dutch, when they're really German. So the Amish call all outsiders English.”

“People like me.” She got it, finally. “You mean they wouldn't want her to be around me because they're afraid of the influence I might have on her.” She straightened. “That's so far-fetched it's ridiculous.”

“Is it?” He looked at her steadily, and that stolid face of his didn't give anything away. The growing darkness
pressed around them, reminding her of that first night, trapped in the beam of his flashlight.

“Yes.” The word came out defiantly. She wouldn't let him intimidate her into saying she'd turn Rachel away from her door, if that's what he had in mind.

“You're forgetting.” His voice was quiet, but there was suppressed emotion in his intent eyes. “But they haven't. It was during her rumspringa that Hannah met your father. She turned her back on everything that was important to her. They never saw her again.”

She took an involuntary step away from him, trying to frame a response through the chaos his words set off in her mind. But Ted turned and disappeared into the darkness.

 

“And today they all reappeared without a word of explanation.” Fiona glanced across the front seat of Nolie's battered old station wagon.