A Plain Disappearance (11 page)

“Summertime. Close to the same time she started working at the warehouse Nathan’s family owns.”

My body tensed. “What did she do there?”

“I don’t know exactly, something in the office.” She twisted the end of her cloak with her hands. “My sister was so smart. She should have been a teacher and maybe this would have never happened.”

I peeked around the corner and the schoolhouse was emptying out.

“I need to go home before my
daed
knows that I’m gone,” Anna said. “He was out checking the ponies in the far pasture, and he should be home by now.” She reached for my hand. “Chloe, my sister didn’t deserve this.” With tears in her eyes, she added. “
I
didn’t deserve this. Please help.”

I squeezed her hand. Even through my glove, her fingers felt cold. It was like holding a Popsicle. “I’ll try.”

She nodded, adjusted her bonnet, and gave Ruth a crushing hug, whispering something to her in their language. Then she ran in the opposite direction of the schoolhouse.

Ruth drew in a shaky breath.

“What did she say to you?” I asked.

Her voice was barely above a whisper, and I had to lean in to hear her. “She can’t be my friend anymore. Her father won’t allow it.”

Katie’s father rose higher up on my suspect list, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s go back.”

She nodded.

I spied Timothy by the door leading into the schoolhouse, scanning the yard. I knew he was searching for me. Of all the attendees, I was the easiest to identify in my purple coat and black wool trousers. A navy blue ski hat covered my bright red hair.

Timothy’s blue eyes lit up when they met mine, and something inside my chest fluttered.

Ruth yanked on my arm. “Chloe, Caleb King is by the swing set.”

I turned in that direction and saw two Amish boys in their late teens or early twenties laughing and jabbing at each other.

Timothy followed my line of sight and frowned. He gave the slightest head shake.
No
.

I pretended I didn’t see him and started in that direction. Ruth didn’t follow me.

The boys’ laughter was low as they spoke to each other in a mixture of Pennsylvania Dutch and English.

“Caleb?” I asked.

Both boys examined me.

“
Ya
?” the taller of the two said. His sharp cheekbones were a stark contrast to his friend’s round face.

“We met at the Troyers’ farm. I’m Chloe.”

“
Ya
. Everyone in the district knows who you are. You made Timothy Troyer turn
Englisch
.”

Timothy left the Amish long before I ever showed up in Appleseed Creek, but I didn’t bother to correct him.

Caleb’s friend laughed.

“I’d like to talk to you about Katie Lambright.” The sentence popped out of my mouth before I could think of a better opening. If it hadn’t been for Katie’s death, I would have had no reason to speak to the Amish man.

Caleb paled. “What do you know about Katie?”

My eyes slid to the friend again. “Can we talk alone about this?”

His friend opened his mouth, but Caleb cut him off in their language. After a minute of arguing, the friend sauntered away.

Caleb scowled at me.

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry about Katie.”

He folded his arms. “It is a shame to lose anyone from the church, but I don’t know why you think Katie was of a special interest to me.”

“You courted her for a long time.”

Caleb cracked his knuckles. “Who told you this? Timothy Troyer? What would he know? He left the district when I was still a child in the Christmas program.”

I took a small step backward. “I didn’t hear it from Timothy.”

“It is no matter.”

“Why did you stop courting Katie?”

“Unless you have something important to say to me, I have nothing to say to you.” He started to move away.

“What about Nathan Garner? Should I speak to him about Katie? Isn’t he a friend of yours?” I asked my questions quickly. Even though my voice was low, I became aware of the adults exiting the schoolhouse watching us. I should have heeded Timothy’s headshake. The schoolyard was not the right place to question Caleb.

Caleb froze in place and spun on his heels to face me. A black cloud passed over his face. “Nathan Garner is not my friend.”

“Because of Katie?”

He clenched and unclenched his gloved hand, glaring at me. Then he turned and stalked away, uttering in Pennsylvania Dutch.

“Chloe Humphrey, you are one gutsy woman,” Timothy said from behind me. “What were you doing talking to Caleb King like that? He’s three times your size.”

I gave him a wry smile. “So you think this wasn’t the best time?”

He buttoned the top button on his coat. “No, it wasn’t. What did he tell you?”

I told him, then I conveyed my conversation with Anna and Ruth behind the outhouse.

From across the schoolyard, Deacon Sutter glared at us.

Timothy shook his head. “Well, I watched the two of you the whole time to make sure he didn’t try anything.”

“What would he try?”

Timothy pursed his lips. “Who knows? He’s unpredictable. You on the other hand are brave to march right up to him like that.”

“Me? Brave?” I never thought of myself that way. My best friend Tanisha had always been the brave one.
She
was the one living halfway across the world in a foreign country. I was barely three hours from the town I’d lived in my entire life.

“I can tell you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t.”

He squeezed my hand. “And that just makes the quality even more attractive.”

A
ll the lights were on in the simple, white-steepled church in the middle of Appleseed Creek. The lamppost in the yard wore a Christmas evergreen spray and a big red bow. The front doors, which led from the greeting hall into the sanctuary, had green wreaths with matching bows.

The Mennonite congregation of Appleseed Creek was not conservative. The women wore everything to services, from long, almost Amish-looking skirts to jeans. Becky and Timothy were members of the choir, but there was also a praise band with an electric bass player. What had Timothy and Becky thought the first time they stepped into this church? Although the service wasn’t much different from those I once attended with the Green family in Shaker Heights, they must be a world apart from the all-German services Becky and Timothy grew up with in which men and women sat on different sides of the living room of an Amish family’s home.

The organ music began, and the choir marched down the center aisle singing “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” As Timothy walked by in his royal blue choir robe, he winked at me. The shimmery fabric was a far cry from the plain style he’d worn most of his life. Becky looked angelic. If she sprouted wings and started strumming a harp, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. If Aaron had been there, he would have fainted dead away. As a baptized Amish man, Aaron spent Christmas Eve with his family within the Amish district.

The choir members took their places in the loft, and the pastor began his greeting. My pew was half full. At the far end was a young family with a baby gumming a teething ring. Between the family and me sat a middle-aged couple, the woman wearing a long skirt and her hair pulled back into a bun, much like the Amish.

Someone stopped at my pew. “Is this seat taken?”

The voice sent a chill down my body. I couldn’t look at him. “No.”

Curt slipped into the pew and stood next to me. “I’m glad, because I was hoping that we could sit together, Red.”

Reflexively, I slid over in the pew and knocked into the heavyset woman on my other side. She shot me a dirty look.
So much for the Christmas spirit.

Becky watched from the choir, her mouth dropping open.

Timothy’s eyes bored into me and looked ready to lunge off the stage.

I bit my lip. Should I move? Should I stay?

The pastor finished making announcements, and the first hymn began. The congregation rose as one. Curt, not knowing the cue, jumped up at the last minute. I opened my hymnal to the correct page and handed it to Curt. He held it in his hands as if it had teeth and might snap closed like an alligator’s jaw.

I pulled a second hymnal from the back of the pew and found my page as the organist began the first notes of “Angels We Have Heard on High.”

The woman next to me belted out the carol as if she was performing in center stage at Severance Hall. I used her volume to my advantage and slid a glance at Curt. “What are you doing here?” I hissed.

The corner of his mouth curved up. “What, Red? You don’t think I am worthy enough for your religion?”

Heat rushed to my face, and I turned my eyes down to the music in my hands. Mercifully, the song finally ended and the congregation sat.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat through the Scripture reading and congregational prayer. Curt stared straight ahead, never once glancing in my direction. Was he paying attention? Was he interested in what he heard? The organ started up again for yet another carol, “O Come, All Ye Faithful.”

Curt popped up to standing, but this was the hymn in which the congregation was asked to remain seated. People in other pews stared at Curt. His forehead bunched and his face turned red. In the many times Curt and I had come face-to-face, I’d seen almost every emotion cross his face, but I had never seen him self-conscious. He didn’t sit down. His knees locked into place.

I stood and handed him the hymnal, and he gave me the first real smile I’d ever seen from him. It wasn’t a smirk or a leer, but a tiny and genuine grin. By the second verse the entire congregation was standing, even the irritated woman next to me.

The song ended, and Curt sank into his seat.

My gaze shifted toward the front where Hannah Hilty wrinkled her nose as she examined my companion and me. She tossed her head and her silky brown hair hit the woman behind her in the mouth.

I bowed my head to cover laughter bubbling up from within me. Who knew that I would spend my first Christmas Eve in Appleseed Creek with two of the people in the world who disliked me so much? All I needed was my evil stepmother to finish off the glaring trifecta.

When I brought my face up again, I found Timothy watching me. His expression moved from anger to concern as his hardened eyes softened. He raised his eyebrows as if to ask whether I was okay. I gave the smallest of nods,
yes
.

I sat the rest of the service, hyper aware of Curt’s proximity to me. I scooted closer to the woman to my right. She set her purse, which could have passed for a saddlebag, between us to stop my encroachment on her space. Curt didn’t seem to notice. He watched the front of the church with studied attention.

Finally, the pastor gave the benediction and filed out, followed by the choir. Timothy paused beside Curt.

“Nice dress, Buggy Boy,” Curt said just loud enough for both Timothy and me to hear.

The choir member behind Timothy tapped him on the back with his bulletin, urging him to start moving again.

Curt leaned against the back of the pew. “Guess Buggy Boy’s not too happy about us being together.”

“We aren’t together,” I shot back.

Curt sucked on his front teeth. “That hurts. It really does.”

I almost apologized, but I stopped myself. The pew emptied out into the side aisle, and I stood. “What are you doing here? Really?”

“Can’t a man celebrate the birth of Baby Jesus?”

“Yes. I—I didn’t mean—”

He stood and was inches from my face. I smelled the chew tobacco on his breath. “Merry Christmas, Red.” Then he melted into the line of parishioners leaving the church. I fell back onto the pew bench stunned. What just happened? Had I just spent my first Christmas Eve service in Appleseed Creek sitting next to Curt Fanning, my arch enemy?

I whispered a prayer. “Dear Lord, what is going on?”

Five minutes later Timothy slid into the pew next to me, his brow furrowed. “What was that?”

I shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

“What did he say to you?”

“Not much. A few snide comments, but I’ve heard much worse from him.”

Timothy’s fingers intertwined with mine on the pew’s smooth wooden seat.

“I think he was just here to go to church.”

Timothy snorted. “I don’t believe that for a second. If that’s true, why’d he seek you out? He wanted to scare you, like before.”

I didn’t feel scared, only confused by Curt’s action. “When I saw him earlier, he was alone just like tonight. This is the second time I’ve seen him without Brock.”

“Maybe they had a falling out.”

“Maybe . . .” my voice trailed off.

Timothy clenched his jaw. “There is something more to this. He wants to torment you. That’s all he’s ever wanted since the day you met him.”

I frowned, remembering how Curt was so embarrassed about standing up at the wrong time and so grateful I stood beside him. I shook my head. Maybe I imagined his grateful attitude. Maybe Timothy was right. Curt was trying a new way to torment me. He’d tried everything else. Why not bother me in church too?

I sighed and glanced around the sanctuary. Ladies from the church were up front watering the poinsettias on either side of the altar. “Where’s Becky?”

Timothy stood and pulled me up beside him. “Handing out invitations to her Christmas party tomorrow.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “I thought she already sent invitations.”

“She has. Twice. This is the third set she’s passing out. She’s also begging for RSVPs. I’ve never seen her so excited about something like she is about this party.”

Hannah walked up the aisle with a companion and stopped at our pew. “Timothy, I’d like you to meet someone.” Her too-sweet voice set my teeth on edge.

Hannah and a dark-haired young man stepped in front of us. The guy was
tall
. Timothy was six foot one and the guy with Hannah had five inches on him.

Timothy and I slipped out of the pew.

Hannah looped her arm through her companion’s. “This is Justin. He’s my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend?
The last time I checked, Hannah had been determined to give Timothy that title. By the way both of his eyebrows rose, Timothy appeared surprised too.