Annie's Truth (Touch of Grace) (17 page)

She turned to him and read in his eyes that she’d been correct in her assessment. She finally nodded her consent to accept his help.

“Okay, we’ll start right away.” Mrs. Cook tapped the papers on the desk to straighten them and put them in a folder. She didn’t smile or give Annie any sign of hope.

“One more thing.” Annie cleared her throat. “Do I need to be in the area while you’re conducting the search?”

Rudy whipped his head her way.

“No. Are you leaving?” The woman tucked the folder into an envelope, sealed it, and laid it on her desk in a pile of others. Her actions spoke louder than words.

“Jah.” Annie kept her eyes forward and blinked away the sting at the top of her throat. “As soon as possible.”

Rudy didn’t say said a word as they walked away from the agency. Annie knew he didn’t agree with her decision to leave, but the weeks had flown by with not even so much as a nibble. Her birth mother had left without a trace. Even Mrs. Cook had left her with the feeling that her search was close to hopeless.

“I’d like to make a phone call, Rudy,” she said as they got into his car.

He flinched. “You can use my cell phone.” He handed it to her. “Are you calling home?”

“Jah. Will there be phone bills?”

Frowning, he took back the phone. “Worry about that later.”

Worry?
That was just one worry of many. She wanted to go home, but now, especially after all this time, she wasn’t sure she would be welcome. Would her family accept her back? Would they understand why she had to do this? She met Rudy’s gaze, tried to understand the emotion in his face, his eyes. Taking a deep breath, she wondered most of all if John would understand.

She’d written each month she’d been away, but no response had ever come. She’d rationalized the reasons. Maybe Abraham, who collected the mail for the Amish, hadn’t had a chance to send the letters with anyone yet. Or he couldn’t get out to her parents’ farm. Or maybe the mail took longer than she thought. She’d never used it before, so she didn’t know for sure.

Rudy slowed and pulled over. His face was hard. He was hurt or frustrated. Which Annie didn’t know, but it made her feel worse than she already did. He’d started out cold and indifferent and had become her search partner.

“I’m ready to go home, Rudy.” She could barely say the words, feeling as if she was giving up, had failed, was unwanted.

His demeanor changed, and she saw something else in his face, a warmth behind the hard facade. Something inside her crumbled, and the tears she’d been holding back traced down her cheeks.

He drew her close. She hugged him and sobbed. He didn’t say anything; he just let her cry. She’d held it all in each time they were denied access, ran a check with no results, or received a phone call with no answers. She didn’t need anymore bad news. The tall, skinny Mrs. Cook, with all her fancy diplomas, had finally made her see the futility of her search. It was as if she didn’t exist, which made her cry harder.

Finally she was done with it. But even after the crying stopped, her body shook with each breath. She pulled back, realizing how close she was sitting to Rudy. She blinked and felt her cheeks warm. She was too close. Much too close.

Rudy let her go. “You can’t give up now.”

“I have to.” She couldn’t remember feeling helpless, and now she had the added worry of going home without finding what she came for.

As she sat there in the silence of the car, she appreciated that Rudy had fallen quiet, apparently content to let her puzzle through her thoughts.

It was then she recognized something else in her heart—a nudge, or even a push from the Lord. She felt Him guiding her back home, just as she’d felt Him lead her here. But this time she didn’t know why.

Rudy rubbed a hand over his stubbly face and let out a long breath, one of surrender. “You must be hungry.”

Annie realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and nodded.

He seemed relieved that he had some way to take care of her and stopped at a Chinese restaurant. “Is this okay?”

“I don’t know.” She reached for the door handle. He stopped her.

“Of course you wouldn’t.” He sat back in his seat and looked at the restaurant. “We’ve expected you to figure out a lot on your own.” He gazed out the window and worked his jaw. “I’ve been so annoyed by having someone around me who represents the very people who turned us away, I hadn’t thought enough of how incredibly hard it must be for you here. Bits and pieces, but not the whole picture.”

She picked at a Kleenex wadded up in her hand. “It’s okay, Rudy.”

“No, no, it’s not. And I apologize.” His gaze was so intense Annie had to look away. She sensed something more than just her feelings was on his mind.

“It’s because of me we had to leave.”

Annie lifted her eyes to meet his, but he was facing the window.

“My education.” He turned to her. “Can you believe it? Just because I wanted to go to school past the eighth grade, our whole life changed.” He scoffed. “As hard as it’s been for Essie here, I’ll never get over the guilt of it. I thought at first it’d be worth it, but not with the way it’s turned out.”

“So that was it? You wanted to go to school, and your parents moved?”

Higher education was forbidden. So was her love for music and her desire to learn to play an instrument. She remembered the time she’d taken Mamm’s knitting yarn and made a guitar with sticks and wood from Daed’s workshop. When Daed walked through the barn doors and saw her sitting on a milking stool picking at the yarn, he marched right over and pitched the pieces of wood and yarn into the trash barrel. He’d never said a word about it, and neither had she.

“The brethren didn’t appreciate my parents’ support of my interest in achieving a higher education. There was no reasoning with them.”

“Did you expect them to?” She said it out loud, but she shouldn’t have.

He shook his head and drove out into the street. “Never mind. You’re just like them.”

Annie didn’t know how to take the jab. Since she moved here, being one of “them” had become a bad thing, quite opposite of how she’d always felt about being Amish. She’d never had to defend herself, but neither could she go idly by and say nothing. “I do agree with following their ways.”

Rudy grunted.

“But I also agree with your wanting to learn and get a better education.” She meant every word. Annie had always admired John’s natural aptitude for knowledge. He seemed to know about everything, and especially the weather. For him it came naturally, but she wondered how far he could go if he had the opportunity to go to college, and she had always wanted to see how well she could do furthering her own education.

Rudy turned to her and studied her face. “You do?”

“Jah, Rudy. I understand why you left. You’re going to be an incredible architect some day.” She grinned at his wide eyes, full of surprise, and something else she couldn’t distinguish.

He scoffed. “I never thought I’d hear an Amish person say that.” He stared at her again and then laid a hand on hers.

Annie knew his appreciation for her understanding meant a great deal to him, but the touch, whether it meant anything else or not, didn’t feel comfortable. She politely pulled her hand away and tried to picture John’s face.

 
Chapter Eighteen
 

W
HEN
J
OHN WALKED
in through the front door of Abraham’s store, the unexpected sound of a bell ringing over his head made him flinch.

Abraham and his family ran the store out of the front portion of their home on the tourist strip in town. They made everything they sold, from candles and soap to quilts and dolls. It looked like any other store on the block, except for the hitching post out front and the absence of electrical wires leading to the building. And then there was also the clothesline neatly hung with trousers and capes.

John waited to see which of the nine family members would come out first. Little Ezekiel came toddling out with Abraham in close pursuit and squealed when Abraham picked him up and placed him on his shoulders.

“John.” Abraham patted him on the back. “How are you?”

John felt like everyone treated him with special care now, which only made things worse. “I’m fine, Abraham.” John tickled Ezekiel’s foot and smiled at his giggle. “He’s getting big.” Ezekiel blew bubbles that popped on his lips when he made a humming noise.

“It’s good they’re getting older, because I am as well.” Abraham pushed his head back into Ezekiel, making him laugh and grab hold of his daed’s hair. “This one has more energy than all the others put together.”

John smiled at the thought of having seven children at his heels and of the plans he’d made with Annie. Then he wondered whether they had made them together or if they were just his, assumed and unspoken. He had assumed a lot—maybe too much.

“Abraham, I was wondering if you had any letters for me to pick up.” It was his last hope in connecting with Annie. Weeks had gone by, and he had to know if she’d tried to communicate with him.

Abraham’s face fell. He slowly shook his head and removed Ezekiel from his shoulders. “I’m sorry, John.”

John’s gut was as tight as a drum, but he didn’t let on that he was hurting. There could still be reasons, but at the moment none of them mattered. “Danke, Abraham.”

Abraham pointed to the back. “I could check with Mary.”

John held up a hand. “No, don’t bother her.” He pointed to the bell, wanting to change the subject. “When did you get that noisemaker?”

Abraham scoffed. “When one too many of the English decided to make their way into our kitchen.”

John gathered his brows. “Don’t they know this is your home?”

“Apparently not.” Abraham shook his head.

John waved as he walked to the door. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

Abraham returned the wave and took Ezekiel to the back of the house.

As John walked down the street of the small town he watched the tourists snap pictures of an Amish buggy and horse tethered to a hitching post. Others held bags full of Amish-made goods. Still another held postcards with an Amish girl on the front.

A group of Englishers waited for the next tour through the farmlands of his community. Another tour went to visit the markets where Amish from all around brought their goods to sell.

He’d never thought so much about the English before Annie was living among them. How could she avoid learning of their ways and covet some of them, maybe just to fit into the lifestyle the Glicks lived? He wondered whether she would be different when she returned. If she returned. He had heard talk that Minister Zeke was considering holding a meeting with the elders regarding Annie ignoring strict warnings she’d received not to leave.

“Oh, sorry!” A teenage girl with colored blonde hair bumped into John, pulling him from his thoughts. She fell into step with two other girls, who gazed at him and giggled. “That one would be worth becoming Amish for,” she told the others. Not used to such a comment, John felt the heat rise up his neck.

He made a stop at the Horse ’N Tack to negotiate the price on a new harness. “Morning, Tobe.” John heard his slow steps but didn’t look up. He glanced over the new harnesses, saw the price, and moved to the used ones.

“Almost afternoon. You in the market for a harness for Pete out there?”

John turned to see Tobe’s crooked finger point to a buggy tethered out front. It wasn’t his, but he didn’t want old Tobe to worry about the oversight. He was one of the oldest Amish men John knew. At eighty-nine years of age he still ran his store alone with the help of his wife, Esther.

“Jah, how about this one?” John pointed to one he knew wouldn’t work, but it gave Tobe a kick to explain why.

“Nee, with Pete’s girth, you need a wider one.” He bent over even more than he already was and pulled out a longer and wider harness. “This one should do the trick.” He moved his shaky hand over to John, and he readily accepted it, worried Tobe wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer.

John held it up admiringly. “Did you make this one?” Because it was used, he asked; all the new gear was made by Tobe’s two hands.