Threads of Grace (28 page)

“I should be,” she said. “When I was little, I used to sit on a stool at my mother’s feet. She made me practice buttonholes.”

“Ach,”
Grace said. Buttonholes were the bane of all sewing.

“
Mamm
would cut the hole in a little piece of fabric and give it to me, and I’d try and finish it. I’d give it back to her and she’d smack the top of my head, telling me it looked more like a sow’s ear than a buttonhole. She’d give it back and I had to do it until it was perfect—smacks and all.”

“I’m sorry,” Grace said. It was probably the most the girl had ever revealed about an unpleasant upbringing. Some
Amisch
were very hard on their children, being the strictest of disciplinarians.

She placed a stitch, then looked carefully across the expanse of fabric at the girl.

“Kate, this may sound strange, but God has laid you on my heart. I think He’d like me to be a mentor, a friend to you, if you will allow it.”

“What are you talking about?” Grace felt the scorn in Kate’s eyes, filled with disbelief and a gleam of something else she couldn’t identify.

“I promised to tell you about my first husband. It’s only fair that I do so since you’ve shared with me.”

“Yeah, right.” The younger girl shrugged.

“I was married very young, to an extremely brutal man, an evil man.”

“Did he hit you or the kid?”

Suddenly Grace realized that she now had Kate’s interest.
She prayed that God would give her the words to say. “Abel, no. Me . . . yes.”

“Why’d you stay?”

“I married him to help my family, and once we were married he kept me isolated from them. He wouldn’t allow me to see them. But I also stayed because I felt I had nowhere to go, no way to support myself. So I started to quilt, experimenting with different designs.” She paused. “But not color, of course. My husband—that is, my first husband, Silas—felt that bright colors were a vanity and an affront to God.”

Kate nodded her chin toward the bright quilt that stretched between them. “Seems like you’ve changed.”

Grace looked at the quilt. The girl was right. She had changed, indeed. Even after Silas’s death, when she was alone with Abel and making quilts to sell in Lancaster, she had kept to the muted tones—a reflection, she supposed, of her morbid life.

It must be Seth’s influence, giving her the courage—perhaps through his painting—to use bright colors. It felt like an exploration of her inner self on a quilt frame, the announcement of some renewed self-esteem. And she had her husband to thank for it.

“I think you’re right, Kate.” Grace smiled. “I am different now. And if I can change, believe me, you can too.”

Kate’s hands stilled on the cloth. “Who said anything about me wanting to change? I’m fine like I am.”

“Are you?” Grace shrugged. “You are one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever met, yet you never smile. You are wounded, I think. The Bible says that ‘deep calls to deep,’ that one who has gone through struggle or difficulty can recognize it in another. I
see you, Kate—or at least glimpses of the real you—and I’d like you to be free.”

“Free?” She stabbed viciously at the quilt with her needle. “You have no idea what it’s like to—”

“To have people berate you, seem to hate you, tell you that your beauty is but sin and temptation, to feel ugly inside, tortured and hurt and—”

“That’s enough!” Kate rose to her feet, her hands shaking. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

“True. You don’t.” Grace forced herself to remain calm. “But it is the truth, and you know it. The Bible also says that ‘the truth shall set you free.’ I’m here to help you with that truth if you want it.”

Kate rolled up her needles. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m leaving.”

“Very well,” Grace said. “I’m sorry you’ll miss tea, but you’re welcome to come again anytime.”

Kate gave her one last bewildered look, then stormed out the kitchen door. Grace heard Alice call good-bye to the girl but there was no response.

Grace took a deep breath as Alice and Abel came inside.

Alice put her hands on her hips. “Grace Wyse, are you trying to help that angry child?”

“Well . . . yes.”

Abel went into the living room to lie on the floor with Pretty, and Alice came over and took Kate’s vacated chair.

“Grace, you can tell me this is none of my business, but I love you. You have more on your plate to deal with than most people I know, and things will not necessarily get easier with time. So why let yourself be rudely talked to by some snot of a kid?”

“You were eavesdropping on the porch.” Grace smiled. “And yes, I’m trying to help her. I’m trying to help myself too, to get over being insecure.”

Alice snorted. “Insecure about what?”

“I don’t know—the past.”

“The past is long gone, honey.”

Grace smiled again. “You’re right, Alice. It is gone. But God can still use it for good.”

“Besides,” Alice said, “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was hungry and wanted to see when you were going to eat.”

CHAPTER 46

V
iolet knew that the small
Amisch
community of Pine Creek had its eyes on her and Luke after their appearance together at the mud sale, but she wasn’t overly concerned. She was sitting on her bed, lost in thought as she folded laundry, when Grace peered through the half-opened door.

“
Come in,” Violet called, patting the bed beside her. “Do you want to talk?”

“I feel like I’ve been neglecting you a bit,” Grace said as she sat. “I saw you and Luke King at the mud sale. He seems kind.”

“
Ach
, he is.” Violet couldn’t help the flush that stained her cheeks. “And so much more.”

Grace gave her a gentle smile. “I don’t want to sound like a nagging older sister, but you are young, Violet. Don’t you want some time to think—maybe consider a bit, before—”

Violet reached out to hug her. “I
am
considering, dear Grace. I feel like I’ve known him for years.”

Grace sighed. “And I forget that it is your choice, not—” She broke off, and Violet touched her hand.

“I’m sorry, Grace. I cannot imagine how it must have been for you not to be able to choose. How have you come to maintain trust in
der Herr
after that experience?”

“It was a long time ago. And the Lord blessed me with Abel.”

“That’s true. But now, with Seth—is it all right?”

“I think things are getting there.”

“I’m glad, Grace. I really do think he is a
gut
man.”

Her big sister nodded in agreement. “He truly is.”

T
he following Tuesday Grace went looking for Seth and found him in his painting room. He whirled when she entered and moved to block her view of the canvas.

“Painting a secret?” she asked.

“Maybe. What’s up?”

“I’d like to go into town with Alice and maybe Lilly, if she’s up to it. Could you keep an eye on Abel? He’s out front, playing with Pretty. Violet is off somewhere. Maybe Abel can help you and Jacob this afternoon?”

“Sure. He’ll be fine, don’t worry. And have a
gut
time.”

He seemed anxious for her to be gone. She wondered what he was painting. They hadn’t talked much about his art lately. She was glad to avoid the issue for the time being, although she couldn’t help thinking about the ways he had influenced her attitudes toward color in her quilting. Maybe her heart was softening toward his art.

She hurried down the steps, called a good-bye to Abel, and then joined Alice in the buggy.

“One of these times, I’m going to drive,” Alice said.

“Now that I’d like to see.” Grace laughed and they headed off in good spirits to pick up Lilly.

S
eth became so immersed in his painting that at first he didn’t hear Jacob calling his name downstairs.

“What?” he called, landing another stroke on the canvas.

Jacob stormed up the steps and entered the room. “Seth, what are you doing? Do you remember a thing called work?”

“What time is it? Seems like I started only a bit ago. I’m painting the Grace pond, Jacob. Want to take a look?”

“
Nee
, I want to get done working so that I can go home to
my
beautiful wife. It’s nearly two o’clock.”

“Suit yourself, but I think Grace was going to try to pick up Lilly, so they might be home late.” Seth stuck his brushes into the coffee can filled with turpentine and dried his hands on a rag. “I’ll clean up later, all right? Come on, big
bruder
. Let’s move.”

They were downstairs and outside before Seth realized that he didn’t hear Pretty’s normal cheerful barking.

“Jacob, have you seen Abel?”

“
Nee
, I thought he was with you.”

Seth stopped stock still and blinked in the heavy sunlight. “I’m sure he’s around. Will you help me have a quick look? I promised Grace I’d keep an eye on him, and I—”

“And you started painting, right? You always lose track of time when you’re doing that. Come on, let’s look around.”

“
Danki
, Jacob.”

It was a good two hours later when both brothers came together to admit defeat. Seth’s mind was racing. “You don’t think that Tobias Beiler might have—”

“Stop being so negative. The boy’s around. He’s probably hiding.”

“No . . . I don’t know.” Seth felt his eyes well with tears. “I’ve got to find him.”

Jacob clapped him on the shoulder. “Then let’s find him before Grace comes home. We’ll go out on the horses. Maybe he went over to my house through the fields.”

“Maybe.”

Seth began to pray for his
sohn’s
safety. He’d have to call the
Englisch
police to help soon if Abel didn’t show up. And if Beiler really had come to the property and taken the boy—

Well, that was a possibility he couldn’t stand to think about.

G
race was on the hunt and she was determined. Lilly laughed out loud when Grace navigated the buggy to the hitching post a few feet away from the entrance to Emily’s Mystery.

“Hey,” Alice said. “I thought this place was all underwear and such. You Amish girls can’t go around wearing that stuff.”

Lilly laughed again. “
Ach
, Alice, if you knew how many gowns I own from this place.”

“You mean that Jacob comes here to buy—by himself?” Alice said in amazement.

“Yep.”

“Well.” Alice rustled in her seat. “I’m going to show that man a Pink Lady catalogue. I’m probably missing a good customer.”

They all laughed and clambered out of the buggy. Grace marched to the elegant door, determined not to be nervous, but Lilly caught her fingers with a squeeze and a giggle. “I always feel like I’m going to be struck by lightning when I walk in here. But I’m not.”

“Well, let’s hope that I’m not either.”

Grace opened the door and went inside. A luxurious, thick-pile carpeting muffled all sound, and the place smelled of fresh lavender and lilac, linen and cotton. Grace was entranced.

A pretty young
Englisch
woman with bobbed red hair and a flowing skirt greeted them cheerfully.

“Hello, ladies. Is there something I can help you with today?”

“Not me,” Alice said. She shook her head emphatically. “At my age, I’m likely to look like an ape in lace if I took to wearing any of these concoctions. This here’s the gal who needs a nightgown.”

“Alice!” Grace gasped in protest.

The salesclerk patted her arm. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ve got wives of
Englisch
husbands who come in here too.”

Despite her discomfort, Grace finally decided on a pale lavender gown that was long and sheer and had an empire waist and lace inserts.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said when she tried it on. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Yes, you should,” Lilly and Alice said in unison. “You definitely should.”

T
wo more hours of searching turned up nothing. He was wearing his voice hoarse with calling Abel’s name. Finally he turned to Jacob.

“I’ve got to go to the telephone shack, Jacob. We need the police.”

Jacob nodded reluctantly. “All right. You go, and I’ll round up a search party on horseback. We’ve got a couple of hours of daylight left—”

“And if we don’t find him?” Seth asked the question that hung over him like a millstone.

“We’ll find him, Seth. Come on.”

A
fter dropping Lilly at home, Grace pulled the buggy up to the house. Nobody seemed to be around. The silence felt eerie; even Pretty’s barking was missing.

“That’s funny,” she said to Alice. “I wonder where everyone is.”

“Oh, they’re around. Might be fishing or—” She broke off at the shrill of a police siren, and both women stood frozen as the car pulled up beside the buggy. Amy, Grace’s mare, shied a little from the noise and lights.

A tall officer got out and tipped his hat.

“Ladies, I hear we have report of a missing child . . .”