Sanctuary (25 page)

“Let’s walk down to Hunsecker Mill Bridge,” Lela suggested to Melissa after saying good-bye to Paul and his delightful son. “Now’s a good time for me to show you my own personal refuge.”

“That’s what
I
was thinking.” They laughed, both a little surprised that they were thinking along the same lines. “A walk is a good idea.”

“Yes, and Hunsecker Bridge is a lovely spot at dusk.” Lela’s face still felt warm from her encounter with Paul, but she hoped Mellie hadn’t noticed. “You’ll see what I mean when we get there.”

“I can hardly wait.”

It never occurred to Lela that they might be in any danger, walking the back country roads. The way she saw it, if the Lord God of heaven and earth couldn’t take care of the two of them here
today
, what good was it to trust in Him for things eternal? They would have their nice stroll down the road to the covered bridge and the lovely grounds surrounding it—evil mobsters, or no.

“I’m glad you shared so openly with me yesterday,” Lela said as they walked. “Believe me, what you told me about your past won’t go anywhere but to the throne of grace.”

Melissa didn’t respond, keeping pace with Lela’s quick step.

“The weather’s not bound to be this pretty too much longer,” she said to change the subject. “Around here we often get sudden changes of weather, least expected.”

“In late summer?”

“That’s right.” She went on to explain that sweater weather would soon be upon them, and that maybe they should look for a handmade sweater or cape for Melissa to wear. “Or I can have Elizabeth make you one.”

“That’s nice of you, but I’ll manage just fine.”

“Maybe you’ll feel comfortable going in to town now and then.” Lela paused, wondering if she should say more. “‘Spose I could go along with you, show you to the best stores and whatnot. But only if you want to.”

“Sure, I’ll go sometime.”

Lela smiled. “You seem much better, more relaxed now.” Mellie nodded. “I don’t know why, but I’m beginning to feel very safe here. I’m glad to be staying on.”

Breathing a prayer of thanksgiving, Lela said, “I’m ever so glad to hear it.”

“Your birthday was extra special this year, I do believe.”

Lela couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, dear me, I hope it wasn’t written all over my face.”

“And … Paul’s,” Mellie ventured. “He’s your—special friend, right?”

“He
was
, but that was a long, long time ago … before he married someone else.” Lela sighed, not realizing till this minute just how much she’d hoped to open her heart to Mellie, seeing as how the younger woman fully understood the pain of rejection and disappointment. Strange as it seemed, a delicate yet common thread seemed to bind the two of them together.

They sat along the grassy banks of the Conestoga River, the covered bridge spanning the water to their left. Birds twittered here and there as the sun made its slow tumble through the trees toward the unseen horizon.

“So it appears that Paul Martin has come back for me, now that he’s a lonely widower,” Lela said, glad for the solitude here and the opportunity to share openly with Mellie.

“‘Love always finds its way home.’ That’s what Mrs. Browning used to say.”

Lela didn’t know what to think. “Easier said than done, I ’spose.”

Mellie was quiet for a while, then—“I think I know what you mean.”

Silently, they soaked up the beauty of their peaceful surroundings. Not speaking, yet joined in complete empathy.

“I did love Paul, very much,” Lela said softly.

“I’m not surprised. He seems like a nice man.”

“Paul was the joy of my life, but when he chose someone else to devote his life to, a good part of me died, I’d have to say,” she confessed.

Mellie said she could understand that nothing could fill the void. “Nothing ever will.”

“Well, now, that may be where we’re different,” Lela spoke up.

“How do you mean?”

Lela hugged her knees through her long dress. “After Paul and his wife left the area, I felt all my hopes were dashed to pieces. But very soon afterward, I decided to lay down my burden … at the feet of Jesus.” She told Mellie how she’d grown up in a conservative Christian home, how her parents had instilled various worthwhile character traits. “My father liked to think he was passing down ‘good gifts’ to his children. Things like purity, generosity, sincerity … you know.”

Mellie nodded. “My father encouraged me the same way, but we never attended church. Neither did the Brownings, but they were good people.”

Lela was careful not to sermonize, yet she felt Mellie’s heart was opening to spiritual truth. “Church attendance is all well and good, but walking with Jesus every day makes life joyful, even in spite of the pain of disappointment.”

“I talked about this with someone once,” said Mellie thoughtfully. “When my husband’s friend Denny Franklin came for a visit. He always seemed so happy and full of life. I guess I’m searching for what both you and Denny have.”

“Today’s as good a day as any to find it,” Lela said softly, turning to face her new friend. “Wouldn’t you like to give your burdens to the Lord who loves you?”

Tears sprang to Mellie’s eyes, and she gripped Lela’s hand. “Yes …” she said. “That’s exactly what I want to do.”

An easier witness she’d never given. Lela was more than happy to lead Mellie in the sinner’s prayer. There, amidst the flowing green willow boughs and the rush of the Conestoga River, Melissa James became a child of God. And Lela Denlinger her elder sister.

Melissa brushed tears from her eyes, thankful despite the circumstances that she had found her way to Lela’s little house. Grateful that the Mennonite woman had cared enough to bring her to this sacred moment.

She thought of the picture of Christ the Good Shepherd, the one hanging in Ryan’s and her living room, and as she did, she followed the river’s current with her eyes, drinking in the tumble of water over rocks, mossy banks profuse with wild flowers, and thick ivy cascading about. She celebrated the moment, breathing in the freshness of the air, allowing the sound of finch and swallow to cloak her in this tranquil place.

At last, I belong to God
, she thought, yearning to share this divine peace with Ryan. Yet knowing she could not.

  
Chapter Thirty
  

BEFORE DAWN, LELA ROSE, dressed, and began sewing more pillow shams for Elizabeth’s country store. Nothing fed the spirit like working with one’s hands—baking bread daily, mending and sewing, putting up pickles and preserves, tatting pretty edges around ordinary-looking pillow slips, and the like. She hummed and prayed as she worked, anxious to catch up a bit, for she’d fallen behind on any number of house chores since Mellie’s arrival. Still, she wouldn’t have traded the hours and days spent with her boarder-turned-friend. Leading the young woman to the Savior had been the highlight of Lela’s year. Oh, the light in Mellie’s eyes as she sat there in the grass, having just opened her heart to Jesus!

“Thank you, Lord, for planting all this in my heart,” she whispered. It had become very clear to her, the reason for Melissa James’s arrival last week. She recalled the prayer she’d prayed, how eager to serve she had been. And she’d felt compelled to make the advertising signs to rent her spare room. So much good had happened because she had been willing, unafraid to branch out from her comfortable and familiar life. And with God’s help she would continue to share the love of the Lord Jesus.

Somewhat unexpectedly, she thought of little Joseph Martin. Surely, the bright-eyed boy must be as lonely as he sounded in the car, awful lost without his mother. ’Course, Lela would not allow herself to become romantically involved with Paul merely for the sake of his son, no. But there was no harm in thinking about the boy. For how she loved children, and Joseph would certainly be easy to love, given his sweet manner and seemingly obedient ways. Who couldn’t fall in love with a child like that?

She thought of her own nieces and nephews, Elizabeth’s children, as well as her other siblings’ children. A growing number to be sure, yet she continued to remember each one with a crisp one-dollar bill on their birthdays, a tradition she’d started years ago when her oldest brother’s first baby was born.

Yes, for one reason or another she was beginning to have a mighty good feeling about Paul’s renewed affection for her. Didn’t know precisely why that was, except that she’d given it over to the Lord. Now, it was up to Him to work His will and way in their lives.

Mellie awakened with such an overwhelming urge to call Ryan, she could scarcely think of anything else. But Agent Walsh’s startling revelation continued to trouble her. Denny had called back to say that Ryan had refused his phone calls. If she wanted to hear the truth from his lips, she’d have to talk to Ryan herself. She had secretly wondered how any of it could be true, though she mourned the statement as if it were. Her darling—on the side of evil? How could that be?

All the endless days stretched ahead. The years—interminably long and lonely. Having enjoyed Lela’s young nieces and nephews so much, she entertained a strong desire to have a baby of her own. With Ryan sharing her joy, the rebirth of their union, perhaps. And for the first time in years, she longed to celebrate her actual birthday in the fall, in October, the month it
ought
to be observed.

She reminisced of autumn’s pungent flavors, of pumpkin carving, home-baked pies, and dried cornstalks propped up on the front porch, accompanied by a scarecrow or two. Christmas, too, soon followed. The best thing about Christmas, she decided, was that it was forever predictable. The lovely sound of traditional carols, the icy-sweet smell of falling snow, brightly colored packages beneath the tree, good will to men. Twigs of evergreen decorating a window, where glowed a new, tiny spruce tree, glittering with frosty flakes and white lights—their own first Christmas tree, she recalled. Ryan had taken the tree outside on the day after Christmas and planted it in the backyard, where it continued to thrive to this day.

She and Ryan painstakingly decorated their long dock each year at Lord’s Point. Stringing strands of white lights along the pier, they tied sprigs of greenery with red bows here and there. Their parties were festive get-togethers. There was music and dancing and good food, always catered.

How would Ryan celebrate this year? Or would he celebrate at all? Knowing him as she did, she wondered if he’d feel so lost and alone that he might merely endure Christmas. She ached with the thought of him missing her so. On the other hand, perhaps she didn’t know the real Ryan James. Perhaps she never had….

Glad to have caught up a bit with her sewing, Lela dusted the front room, going over the mantel with a damp rag. She wiped down each of the tiles surrounding the fireplace, singing hymns of praise. Carefully she dusted each shelf of her pine corner cabinet, lifting out the various china cups and saucers. Some of the nicest pieces she owned. Having given up the notion of a hope chest long ago, she had to smile at herself. Paul Martin’s return to Lancaster certainly had stirred things up in her.

Dismissing the thought, she decided to offer tea, along with some raisin bars she’d baked yesterday—a recipe Elizabeth had shared with her recently—to the five ladies who would be coming this afternoon for the weekly Bible study. She couldn’t help but hope that Mellie might join them, too.

What a good time we’ll have together
, she thought, taking the dust rag outside and giving it a good shake.

She was quite beside herself to see Paul Martin’s car parked in front of her house, and here he came with a handful of red roses bobbing their heads as he made his way to the gate and up the walkway. “I hope it’s all right to drop by,” he said. “Just wanted to say hello again.” He seemed slightly self-conscious, glancing down at the flowers, then holding them out to her like a schoolboy.

Their fragrance was so tempting, she leaned forward and breathed in their aroma before even greeting him. “Oh, they’re lovely! Thank you, Paul.”

He stood tall and lean before her, his eyes enormous, their blueness astonishing. “May I talk with you, Lela?” he asked.

She hesitated, glancing up the street, unsure of herself. At last, she said, “Come on around to the back. We’ll sit on the porch.”

Placing the long-stemmed roses in a vase on the small table, she sat in her white wicker rocker. Paul found a spot in the cushioned settee. She wondered what had brought him here to her today, but she waited, hoping he’d strike up the conversation.

“I hope you won’t think it bold of me, but I’d like to tell you about my life … outside the Mennonite community—the years I spent in Indiana, while I was married.”

She didn’t reply to this at once but waited, her hand resting on the uneven wicker weave of the rocker. He waited, too, and after a little while, she said, “It must’ve been a bit difficult for you, so far from family and the church you’d grown up in.”

“That’s not the half of it.” He sighed, leaning forward for a moment, then back again. “I was warned not to marry my wife. More than a handful of folks said I’d live to regret it, leaving my Plain roots behind. My own mother said I ought to ‘think twice about marrying an outsider.’ ”

Lela didn’t know what to make of this. She was ever so uncomfortable hearing such things. She rubbed her hands against the arms of the rocker. Yet she had not the heart to stop him.

His face was earnest, eyes sincere. “My life changed radically the day I married. I did my best to make my wife happy, working hard to give her the things she desired. To the best of my ability, I loved her, yet nothing I ever did seemed good enough.”

He paused, staring out across the yard toward the tall trees that formed a border between the gardens and the pastureland beyond. “When Joseph was born, our lives were taken up with a new baby and all the extra duties required. Soon after his birth, my wife became seriously ill. I tended to both her and our son until the day she passed away.”

“I’m sorry things were so difficult.”

“Well, it seems I’ve been making mistakes all my life. God allowed me to follow my own path for a time. Thankfully, I have my Joseph.”

Her heart went out to him, this man whom she’d loved so dearly. “You’ve come through a dark tunnel, suffering so. But Joseph
is
a wonderful child. God knew what would bring a smile to your face.”

Leaning forward, he covered her hand with his. “You always knew what to say to cheer me, didn’t you?”

She smiled. It was true. She’d known how to treat him special, all right.

His voice came softly then. “I’ve come to ask your forgiveness, my dear Lela.”

“Oh, Paul, I forgave you a long time ago.”

He was still for moment, then released her hand. “I’ve been praying about the second chance God has given me—us—if that meets with your approval.”

She gave him her most assuring smile, though she could not say just now whether Melissa’s staying on with her might possibly put any thoughts of romance on hold.

“Red roses stand for true love,” Melissa told Lela when she’d arranged the roses in a larger vase and placed them on the kitchen table after Paul had departed.

“Well, now, is that so?” Lela said.

“Absolutely. Ask me about any rose color and its meaning. My father taught me all about them.” Even now, the thought of him both stung and sustained her. Like thoughts of her own true love….

Lela hurried about the kitchen, cleaning up from lunch, but Mellie could see the woman’s gaze straying often to the red roses.

When the women arrived for the scheduled Thursday Bible study, Lela felt nearly giddy with joy. Sadie Nan seemed to notice and came into the kitchen, eyeing the bouquet. “Did my brother happen to stop by today?”

Lela was discreet—after all, the other women were only a few steps away, visiting in the living room. “Well, now, what do
you
think?”

“You mustn’t play games with me.” Sadie Nan scolded jokingly. “Aren’t the roses from Paul?”

Pulling her aside, Lela lowered her voice. “I had a most interesting visitor this morning.”

Sadie’s eyes lit up. “Well, I do declare. When’s the wedding?”

“Let’s not rush things, now, all right?”

“What’s to rush … you’ve got so many years to catch up on. Don’t be waitin’ too long, you hear?”

Lela hugged Sadie Nan. “We just might get to be sisters after all.”

The other woman grinned. “I’d like that very much.”

Lela went back to pouring tea while Sadie Nan arranged the raisin bars on a plate. “Your boarder, Melissa, seems mighty hungry for the things of the Lord.”