“And what about us?”
Her shoulders slumped. “I didn't want to lie to you. He didn't either. But we had
to.” She looked at him. “You were both young when we left Florida. If you knew anything
about what happened to
yer vatter
or what he was involved in, you might have said
something. Even now, we can't reveal the real reason he's not with us.”
“But doesn't witness protection protect all of us?”
“Only if he follows the rules.”
“Is letter writing part of the rules?”
She shook her head. “
Nee
. We take a risk every time we write to each other. But it's
the only contact we have. We needed that over the years.”
“The return address says he's in California.”
“The address isn't real. I don't know where he is. He could be in California, or
he could be in Ohio. I have
nee
idea, and that's the point.”
“Why aren't we being protected?” Andrew clenched his fists.
“We were under surveillance for a while. That was another thing we didn't tell you.
But after a few years they stopped it. We're safe here, especially in the Amish community.
That was another thing
yer vatter
made sure ofâthat I didn't have to leave
mei
faith.”
“And he had to leave his.”
“Ya.” Mamm
wiped her eyes. “Someday he may be able to come back and reconcile with
the church. He'll have to confess, and all this will be public knowledge in our community.
I'm not sure if he's willing to do that.”
“Because he'll be embarrassed?” Andrew ground out, still hanging on to his resentment.
“
Nee
. Because you'll be.”
Andrew shook his head. “Too late for that.”
Mamm
put her hand on Andrew's. “You need to forgive Joanna, Andrew.”
“Because I'm Amish.”
“Because when you love someone, you forgive them.”
“So you've forgiven
Daed
? Even though he left you alone all these years?”
“I wasn't alone, Andrew.” She took his hand. “I have you and Irene. And I have God.
He's sustained me through it. And someday
yer vatter
will come back to meâto us.”
He pulled his hand out of his mother's. Right now he wasn't in a forgiving mood.
She'd had years to come to terms with all of this. He felt like he was on overload.
Joanna, his father, Cameron . . . In a matter of days, his life had been hit with
an emotional earthquake. “Are you going to tell Irene all of this? Or do you expect
me to lie to her like I have to lie to Joanna?”
Mamm
shook her head. “I'll tell her when she feels better. Now that you know the
truth, she should know too.”
Andrew stood. The house felt like it was closing in on him. He had to get out. He
started for the front door.
“Where are you going?”
Mamm
asked, rising from the couch.
“Out. Just . . . out.”
He went outside, the cold air hitting him. He headed for the barn and to Fred's stall.
As he fed his favorite horse, he fought against the softening inside him, not just
toward Joanna but also his father. He didn't know what to do with that. He'd resented
his father for years. Now everything he'd known about him was a lie. For some bizarre
reason he wished he could talk to him. Get his side of the story. It didn't matter,
though. Until the FBI or the police or whoever tracked down the other drug dealers,
he wouldn't get to see his father.
But now he understood why his mother had been so sympathetic to Cameron. Andrew's
father had made mistakes, but he had also suffered for them. He had chosen isolation
from his wife
and children to keep them safe. And after all these years, he was still
faithful to his motherâor so she believed.
After reading his father's letter, Andrew believed it too.
He leaned his head against Fred's side. His mother still loved his father. It's why
she forgave him. It's why she defended him to Andrew. When you truly loved someone,
you forgave. You didn't turn your back.
You give her the best of yourself . . . even
if you don't think it's enough.
He had to forgive Joanna, and not because he was Amish. Because what his mother said
was trueâhe loved her. After everything, he still loved her.
Somehow he'd have to make sense of the nightmare his life had become. Problem was,
he didn't know how.
“It's been a tough season for the flu,” the doctor said to Cameron. “Luckily, Lacy's
got
only
a mild case of it.”
Cameron stood next to Lacy's crib, his body shaking with relief. She had been moved
to
the
regular pediatric unit of this small hospital after spending most of the day
in
the
emergency room. She had responded to the fluids well enough that the doctor
didn't
feel
the need to transport her by helicopter to the children's hospital nearly
an
hour
away. Cameron had almost collapsed to his knees when they said they were
going
to
admit her and keep a close eye on her. “So she's going to be okay?”
The doctor nodded. “Her temperature's down to 99, which is good. We'll want to keep
her for at least another day to monitor that and get her nutrition back up. She's
a little underweight.”
Cameron thought about how Lacy hadn't been on a normal
schedule
since he'd left Langdon. She hadn't even slept in a regular crib. Their few belongings
he hadn't been able to pack into his truck were in storage. Now he wouldn't be able
to afford the monthly fee. He was out of money, out of options. But more important,
he had made a promise. God had delivered on his end. It was time for Cameron to keep
his word.
“We'll have her feeling better soon,” the doctor said, extending his hand to Cameron.
“Then you can take her home. She'll be a lot more comfortable there.”
As the doctor left, Cameron shook his head. He couldn't take Lacy back to that motel.
He took one last look at his daughter.
I'd do anything for you, sweetheart.
All
this time he thought he was protecting her . . . but he was only protecting himself.
He wanted her to have a better life than he had. The only way that would happen was
if he let her go and finally did the right thing.
He touched her cheek, careful not to wake her, and left the room. He went down the
hall and found a private corner at the end of it, near a window. He pulled his cell
from his pocket and stared at it. His chest hurt and his throat squeezed. After this
phone call everything would change, for both him and Lacy. Wiping his eye with the
heel of his hand, he collected himself and dialed a number.
“Hello?”
Cameron leaned against the wall at the sound of Mrs. Rodriguez's kind, familiar voice.
“Hi,” he said. “It's Cameron.”
“Cameron!”
He startled and pulled the phone away at her loud exclamation. How he managed a
half-smile he didn't know. Her excited voice tugged at his heart.
“I'm so happy to hear from you,” she said when he put the
receiver back to his ear.
“How are you? How is my precious Lacy?”
He filled her in on Lacy's illness but was vague about any other details. She would
know the story soon enough. “I know I don't have the right to do this,” he said,
swallowing. “You don't owe me anything, and I owe you everything.”
“Cameron, please.” Her voice grew somber, but she still sounded emotional. “Anything
you need me to do, I'll be happy to do it. You know you're family to me.”
You won't think so after you find out what I've done.
“I'm coming back to Langdon.
I wondered if you could watch Lacy for me? I have . . .” His chest heaved. “I have
something I need to do.”
“Of course, of course. And just so you know, I haven't rented your apartment yet.
Are you coming back for good?”
He paused. “No. I won't be in Langdon long.”
After firming up details, Cameron hung up. He took another deep breath and sighed.
He wouldn't call the police until after he dropped off Lacy at Mrs. Rodriguez's.
That would be at least two more days. He went back to Lacy's room and stood over
her crib. He wanted to touch her again, but she slept so peacefully he didn't want
to disturb her. He had forty-eight hours left with her. After that he didn't know
if he'd ever see his daughter again.
T
wo days after his illness, Andrew stopped at the front door of Joanna's house. He
paused, afraid to knock. His palms were sweaty, and he felt nervous, much as he had
when he first came here after Joanna came home from rehabilitation. So much had changed
since then, and not the way he had expected. Or how he had wanted. He knocked on
the door. As he'd hoped, Joanna answered it. Her eyes were wide with surprise. He
also noticed how different she looked. Relaxed. She'd put on a little weight, so
her face wasn't so sunken. She looked, as she always did in his eyes, beautiful.
“Hi,” he said softly. “I came by to . . . uh . . .” So much for courage.
She smiled. That sweet smile he'd been longing to see. She stepped out on the front
porch. She was wearing a light green dress and navy-blue sweater, but she was barefoot.
He wondered if her feet were cold, but being without shoes didn't seem to bother
her. As she shut the door and moved to stand in front of him, he saw her slight limp.
But she seemed strong. Independent.
Dread pooled in his stomach as he thought about
the harsh words he'd thrown at her when he was angry. Would she turn him away again?
He couldn't predict what she'd do anymore. He forced himself to speak. “I came to
thank you for being there for me when I was sick.”
Joanna turned to him, her cheeks rosy, her skin back to its usual peachy shade. “You
don't have to thank me, Andrew. I wanted to be there. I was glad I could be.”
He nodded. Words froze in his mouth again. He looked down at his feet, trying to
find the right things to say to her. Sorry didn't seem enough. He had so many things
to be sorry forâhurting her, pressuring her, dumping his anger on her, and not being
willing to listen to her side. He felt all of it in his heart, but for some reason
he couldn't say anything.
“Andrew,” she said, facing him. “We can't
geh
on like this. We both know that.”
What did she mean? “I don't understand.”
She sighed. “Our relationship. It's been wrong from the beginning. Well, not from
the very beginning. We got along great when we were only friends.” Her smile grew
wistful. “But when we started dating, nothing was right after that.”
He drew in a sharp breath. So this was how it ended for goodâwith him messing everything
up and her moving on with her life. But he loved her and wouldn't stand in her way.
And he couldn't deny that she was right. “I wish things could have been different.”
“Me too.” She took a step toward him. “I think they can be.” She cleared her throat.
“Andrew, will you
geh
out with me?”
He frowned. That wasn't what he expected. “Like a date?”
“
Ya
. Tomorrow afternoon, when you're off work.”
Joy squeezed in his chest. “I'll take the
daag
off.”
“You don't have to.”
“I want to.” He took one step toward her. There was still plenty of space between
them, but for some reason the invisible wall that always went up when they were alone
had disappeared. “What time should I pick you up?”