Simple Secrets (The Harmony Series 1) (16 page)

After praying, my mind wandered back to the intruder at Benjamin’s. The rain had successfully washed away any clues, such as footprints or tire tracks—not that they would have helped us anyway. If my visitor had left something behind that could identify him, it would likely be inside the house, and I hadn’t noticed anything that didn’t belong.

My silent musings drifted back to Sam’s embrace in the basement. Since then, he hadn’t tried to kiss me again, and I wondered why. Did he regret that first kiss the way I did? We had no future. It was pointless to stir up yearnings that could never be fulfilled. Keeping ourselves in check was the only sensible thing to do. I let out a deep sigh that seemed extremely loud in the silent room. Then why couldn’t I get that kiss out of my mind? And why did I get butterflies in my stomach every time I looked at him? Obviously, I knew the answers to my own questions—and they weren’t acceptable. “Stop it, Gracie,” I whispered. “Get control of yourself.” I had no intention of creating any additional problems in my life. I already had more than I could handle. In two weeks, come hell or high water, I intended to head back to Wichita, leaving Sam Goodrich and Harmony far behind me.

I forced myself to stop thinking about Sam. My priority right now lay in another direction, and I couldn’t allow errant feelings for some good-looking fruit farmer to interfere.

I turned out the light and listened to the rain for a while. Sam had asked me to go to church with him in the morning. At first I’d said no because I knew Ruth would be there. Finally, he’d convinced me that if I didn’t go, I would look guilty. Reluctantly, I’d agreed, but I was having second thoughts now. How would people treat me? Was the story all over town? Even as a part of me dreaded confronting the accusing looks and whispers, my stronger, more independent side rose up in indignation. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and I had nothing to feel embarrassed about. My parents had drilled several strong beliefs into me down through the years. One of them had to do with only playing to an audience of One—and that His opinion was the only one that mattered. I knew He wanted me to be kind and forgiving, yet He didn’t expect me to accept condemnation.

I thought about Mama Essie and Papa Joe and how much courage it took for them to walk away from the town and the people they loved because they knew Amil Angstadt was leading his congregation away from the Bible as well as the tenets of their faith. I figured if they could stand up for what was right in such a big way, I could certainly attend church knowing my conscience was clear and the charges against me were false.

I flipped over on my side and had just started to drift off when I heard the door to my room open slowly. I turned over to see who it was. The light in the hallway illuminated the empty doorway. I kept staring but no one appeared. Great. What now? Ghosts? Suddenly, something hurtled toward me, and a scream escaped my lips. A hairy face sought mine, and a wet tongue licked my forehead. Buddy!

“You scared the snot out of me,” I hissed accusingly.

Seemingly unfazed by my brief bout of hysteria, Buddy settled down next to me. I’d just put my arm around him and snuggled closer when the ceiling light suddenly clicked on. I turned my head toward the door. Sam stood there in a dark blue T-shirt that read Rock Chalk Jayhawk and matching sweatpants that had Jayhawk printed down the side.

“KU fan?” I teased.

His tousled hair and “deer in the headlights” expression made it clear he’d been sound asleep. “I thought I heard you scream.”

Even though I wore a T-shirt and sweatpants myself, my usual sleeping attire, I pulled the covers up closer to my chin. “You did. I was just attacked by a vicious beast.”

As if on cue, Buddy lifted his head and stared sheepishly at his perturbed owner.

“Buddy,” Sam grumbled. “What are you doing here?”

I quickly ran my hands through my hair, trying to rid myself of bedhead. “He’s attempting to sleep—just like me.” I smiled at him. “Thanks for running in to save me, but I’m fine. I can handle monsters this cute and cuddly.” I stroked the little dog. “Please don’t make him leave. Having him here makes me feel better.”

Finally, the stricken look on Sam’s face softened, and he shrugged. “Fine, he can stay, but only if you promise there will be no more screaming unless you’re being mauled by something a little more dangerous than Buddy.”

“You got it. Now if you don’t mind?”

Buddy’s mouth opened in something close to a doggy grin. Then he put his head down again.

“Boy, loyalty means nothing in this house,” Sam said accusingly. “Good night.”

“Good night.” I watched as he closed the door. It felt great to know he was looking out for me. And having Buddy in the room only added to my feeling of security. “Thanks,” I whispered into the darkness, “for two angels named Sam and Buddy. I know You’re watching over me. Please help me to uncover the truth. I’m counting on You.” Once again, I cuddled up next to Buddy and promptly fell asleep.

It seemed like only minutes passed before I awoke to Sam’s voice saying, “Time to rise and shine, sleepyhead!”

I sat up in bed and looked at the clock. It was a little after eight. Buddy stood up, yawned, and then jumped down off the bed and ran toward his master.

“Sure,
now
you pay attention to me. When you want food and you need to go outside.” He grinned at me. “Sweetie’s making breakfast.”

“Be down as soon as I get dressed.”

He nodded and closed the door. I could hear Buddy’s nails clicking on the wooden floor in the hall. I rolled over on my back and gazed up. The specter of accusing stares and angry murmurs from the citizens of Harmony floated like fuzzy visions across the ceiling. But the words of Jesus whispered louder.
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.... Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

I spent a few minutes thanking God for the day before me. Then I put myself into His capable hands. I rolled out of bed, grabbed my clothes, and made my way to the bathroom, as my slippers made a
slap, slap, slap
sound on the floor.

It took me about twenty minutes to scrub my teeth, change my clothes, apply some makeup, and run a brush through my hair. I’d brought one of my few dresses along. I usually wore slacks to church, but I hadn’t been certain what to expect in Harmony. Although my simple light aqua frock was modest and thankfully hung below my knees, the apple-green dress that I’d seen in Harmony popped into my mind. I really wanted it but was worried that the Mennonite shop owners might think it was inappropriate for someone not of their faith to purchase it. How could a simple dress make me feel so insecure? I stared at my reflection in the mirror. “You can buy any dress you want, Gracie. Get the dress. You don’t have to wear it here. Wear it in Wichita.”

Having a quick talk with myself made me feel better. I would buy the dress. But I’d probably wait until right before I left town.

I picked up my T-shirt, sweatpants, and slippers and went back to the bedroom where I put them away. Then I made my bed and went downstairs. Sweetie and Sam were already sitting at the table. The smell of fresh-brewed coffee tickled my nose as I entered the kitchen. Sweetie got up when she saw me.

“My waffles are gettin’ cold, girl,” she said, her tone accusatory.

I glanced over at Sam who rolled his eyes and shook his head. I was beginning to learn that Sweetie’s nickname smacked more of irony than reality. This woman was about the sourest person I’d ever met.

“Sorry,” I said softly. “I got ready as quickly as I could. I’d never purposely be late for one of your delicious meals.”

My statement seemed to take the wind out of her sails. She paused with a plate of waffles in her hand. “Th–that’s okay,” she said finally. “I’ll have them to you lickety-split.”

Sam gave me a thumbs-up when his aunt wasn’t looking. I remembered the scripture that promised a gentle answer would turn away wrath. Wow. Obviously it worked.

Before long, I was full of waffles, bacon, and coffee. When Sam announced it was time to go, I got up and followed him to the front door. Sweetie stayed behind.

“Doesn’t your aunt ever go to church?” I asked when Sam closed the front door behind us.

He shook his head. “She used to when she was younger, but I guess something happened that changed her. She encourages me to go, and she reads her Bible and prays. She just won’t step foot inside a church building.” He shrugged. “I used to try to get her to tell me why, but I finally gave up. Whatever her reasons, she’s determined to keep them to herself.”

I thought about Sweetie as Sam’s truck jiggled down the dirt road toward Harmony Church. I’d met quite a few ex-church members like her—people who used to be part of congregations but had left for various reasons. Sometimes they’d pulled out because the church didn’t seem to be meeting their needs. And sometimes it was because they’d been hurt. I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if more churches took care of the people already inside its borders instead of concentrating so much on bringing in new bodies. Numbers are great. I have no problem with large churches as long as they care for their members. But I’d seen firsthand what happens when people are neglected. I thought about a friend of mine who belonged to a small singles’ group at his church. Because of work, he missed several meetings in a row. “Wow, Gracie,” he’d told me. “Not one person ever called to ask me if I was okay—or to tell me they missed me.” I could still see the look on his face. He quit going to that church. A simple phone call—a little concern—would have made a huge difference in his life. Jesus’ admonition to Peter, “Feed my sheep,” slipped into my mind. Unfortunately, some of His sheep seemed to be starving.

Sam turned into the parking lot at Harmony Church, forcing me to put my thoughts on hold. “Here we are,” he said as he pulled into a space. “Are you nervous?”

I looked out the window at the people headed for the large brick building. Not one of them stared at the truck or seemed interested in who was inside. “A little bit.” The scripture about God’s peace came back to me. “I’ll be fine. Let’s go inside.”

I waited for Sam to open my door, and then I climbed down carefully, keeping my skirt in place. He was incredibly handsome in his black slacks and gray striped shirt.

“You look really nice this morning,” I said as I stepped out of the truck.

“And you look absolutely beautiful,” he said in a low voice.

I felt the blood rush into my face and had to turn away so he wouldn’t notice. He took my arm and escorted me toward the front entrance. Several people stepped up to introduce themselves as we entered. Sam told them who I was, yet no one acted as if they’d heard about my supposed thievery. I’d started to relax until we almost ran smack-dab into Ruth and her companion—Mary Whittenbauer. Their expressions made it obvious they’d been talking about me. Mary already had it in for me. Combining forces with Ruth made for a poisonous mix.

Sam’s grip on my arm tightened, and he steered me right toward the two women, even though I pulled away from him and tried to go the other way.

“Hello, Ruth. Hello, Mary,” he said, his voice a little too loud for my liking.

Ruth’s mouth dropped open. Mary just glared at him.

“G–good morning, Sam,” Ruth said after she regained her composure. “Gracie.”

“Good morning,” I mumbled. I fought a quick rush of embarrassment and had to remind myself that I had nothing to be humiliated about. “Good morning, Mary,” I said a little more forcefully.

“Good morning, Gracie.” She fired her words back at me like small, potent bullets.

I felt Sam tug on my arm, but I wasn’t quite finished. A small fire of indignation burned in my gut. “I’m looking forward to today’s sermon,” I said with a smile. I directed my gaze toward Ruth. “Maybe the pastor will preach about the ninth commandment, Ruth. Do you know it by any chance?”

“Let’s go,” Sam said gruffly. This time he didn’t try to gently lead me away from the women. Instead, he yanked me so hard I almost toppled over.

“Let go of me,” I hissed once we were out of earshot.

He stopped in his tracks and faced me. His eyes flashed with anger. “Do you feel better now that you put Ruth in her place?” He shook his head. “Don’t you know that you don’t fight wrong with more wrong? It never works.”

“She had it coming. Bearing false witness is a sin.”

“So is not turning the other cheek,” he said in a tight, controlled voice. “God is all about love and forgiveness, Grace. With your name, you’d think you’d have figured that out by now.”

As we made our way to our seats, an internal struggle was going on inside me. Self-righteousness screamed that I’d been wronged, while humility whispered that no one was more wronged than Jesus—yet He had forgiven the world. Of course, humility won, quickly followed by conviction and its close friend, repentance.

Sam sat silently beside me. As the music ministers began taking their places on the platform, I turned to him. “You’re right,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. Hope I didn’t embarrass you.”

He let out a big sigh. “I’m not embarrassed. I overreacted, too. You only said what I was thinking. But we can’t pay back evil for evil. It always blows up in our faces.”

“I know. I’ll apologize after the service.”

“You pray about that. If you feel the need, I’ll go with you.” He put his hand on mine. “You’re a wonderful person, Grace. You don’t deserve to be in the spot you’re in. I hope I’ll be able to help you.”

“Me, too.” My eyes drifted past Sam. Two rows up, Mary turned around and glowered at us. I quickly looked away. “Mary may be more of a problem than Ruth,” I said softly.

Sam grinned down at me. “You could be right. We usually sit together in church.”

I turned toward him in surprise. I wanted to tell him that ignoring Mary to sit with me wasn’t wise, but before I could get the words out, the praise and worship music began. I took one more quick look at Mary, but she’d turned her head toward the platform. As much as I resented her talking to Ruth about me, I felt uncomfortable knowing my presence caused her pain. By the time the music came to an end, I’d made a firm decision. Sam and I would have to talk about the reality of our relationship. That there wasn’t one—and never would be. He and Mary would have to sort out their own problems. I couldn’t be in the middle anymore.