At Home in Pleasant Valley (22 page)

How could she explain it so that he would understand? It was so clear to her now.

“I'm not afraid. I'm just sure.”

“Is there someone else? Is that why?” He drew his hands away.

Sorrow was a weight on her heart. There might have been, but Daniel had made that impossible.

“No. At least, not the way you mean.” Words weren't enough for this, but they were all she had. “You told me that I wasn't doing enough for the children I teach, but you're wrong. I'm not teaching them just by the subjects they learn. I'm teaching them by my life and my actions.”

“You can't live your life for other people's kids. You deserve more.”

“There is nothing more than this.” She shook her head. “I am being a part of the community where no single piece is more important than any other. What anyone does affects everyone, especially the children.”

He sat with his face averted, like Anna had.

“Johnny, I'm not blaming you for the choice you made.” She wanted to comfort him, as she would one of the children. “I just know that if I left, ripples would spread out from that action, affecting so many lives. You were right, in a way. I suppose at some level I was thinking about what the English world would be like, the way a child wonders what it would be like to be a bird. But I couldn't leave. I would be lost if I did.”

“I'd take care of you.” But there was no confidence in his words.

“I know you'd try.” She took a breath, feeling the peace that settled into her. “I'm sorry I've never been able to give you what you want. Ten years ago I refused to go with you out of fear. But now—now the answer is the same, but the reason is different. I can't go, because I know where I belong. It's here.”

L
eah
would never have imagined that she'd be dreading seeing her baby sister. But as she walked down the hospital corridor the next day, she realized that
dread
was exactly the right word for what she felt.

She'd spent the night praying for Anna and praying for guidance. Her newfound peace about who she was and what God intended for her life didn't seem to extend to her relationship with the sister she loved.

Why, Father? Why can't I reach her? Why can't I show her what is right?

To that, there didn't seem to be an answer.

Leah pushed the door to Anna's room open. She froze, fingers gripping the edge of the door. The room was empty, the bed stripped, the cards and flowers Anna had received gone.

She forced herself to cross the room to the small closet. The dress, cape, shoes, and kapp she'd brought yesterday in anticipation of Anna coming home soon were still here. Only Anna was gone.

The door swished behind her, and she whirled. The smile died on her face when she saw it was one of the nurses, a plump, comfortable, middle-aged woman in blue print scrubs.

“My sister.” She nearly stammered the words. “Where is she?”

The woman's gaze slid away from hers. “She's gone. She checked herself out of the hospital first thing this morning.”

“Gone!” Leah's mind spun dizzyingly. “How can she be gone? Where did she go? We were told that we might be able to take her home tomorrow.”

“The doctor wanted her to stay another day, but she was very
insistent.” Faint sympathy crossed the woman's face. “Your sister is eighteen. Legally she's an adult, and she could check herself out.”

Leah gripped the bottom rail of the bed. “But where did she go?”

“I'm sorry. I'm afraid I can't give out any information without the patient's permission.” The nurse looked as if the sorrow was genuine—surely that was pity in her face.

Leah took a breath, trying to calm herself, trying to frame the words that would convince the woman to tell her where Anna was. “Please—she's my baby sister. You have to tell me where she is.”

She shook her head, lips pressed together as if she wanted to speak but couldn't.

Please, Lord . . .

“She was still so weak. How could you just let her walk away?” Leah tried to keep her voice steady, but it wobbled despite her best efforts.

The nurse glanced behind her at the closed door and then turned back to Leah.

“We wouldn't let her walk, of course. I took her out myself in a wheelchair, and her young man brought his car right up to the sidewalk and helped her in. They drove away together.”

The woman looked at her meaningfully. Leah's hands clenched. The English boy. Of course. For a moment her mind was blank, and then it came to her, as clearly as if she heard Anna speaking.

Jarrod,
Anna had said.
His name is Jarrod Wells.

“Thank you.” Her eyes filled with tears as she pressed the woman's hand.

The nurse gave her a quick hug. “Don't thank me,” she said. “I didn't tell you a thing.”

•   •   •

“This
is it.” Ben Morgan, who'd come at once when Leah called from the hospital, pulled to a stop in front of a large, elegant home set back from the street in a suburban neighborhood. He patted Leah's shoulder as she started to slide from the car. “I'll wait for you. Good luck.”

She nodded. Murmuring a silent prayer for guidance, she started up the walk.

She felt—small, she supposed. Out of place. Surely every one of these fancy homes looked in disdain at the sight of a Plain woman disrupting the modern style of their neighborhood.

She rang the doorbell, half expecting Anna or the boy to come. But when the door opened, she found herself facing a woman who must surely be the boy's mother, even though her carefully styled blonde hair and flawless makeup made her look too young to be the parent of a boy that age.

“I am here to see my sister.” There seemed little point in beating about the bush. They both knew why she had come.

The woman stiffened. “I don't think she wants to see you. She's made a choice of her own free will. Why don't you people just leave her alone?”

She made it sound as if they were persecuting Anna.

“Anna is my baby sister. I will not go away without seeing her.” She stepped boldly into the hallway, the woman stepping back as she did.

She flushed. “You can't—”

“It's all right. I'll talk to her.” The voice was Anna's. But the young woman who stood in the archway wasn't Anna—not the Anna she knew.

Blue jeans, sneakers, a bright knit top that clung to her body and a dangling necklace that hung between her breasts. Makeup drew attention to her delicate features, and—Leah's breath caught—her hair. Anna's hair was cut to her chin in a shining bob that swung when she moved her head.

“All right,” the woman—Mrs. Wells, she supposed—said doubtfully. “If you're sure. Go in the sunroom. You'll be private there.”

“Thanks.” Anna gestured to Leah. “This way.”

Wordlessly, Leah followed this new Anna down the hallway. The sunroom had tile floors and glass all around, with plants blooming so profusely that it looked like a greenhouse.

Anna swung to face her, not offering her a seat. “I'm not going back, so there's no point to your saying anything.” She flicked her hair with her fingers. “Cut my hair first thing. You like it?”

“I liked it the way it was.” Leah took a step toward this girl who
was and yet wasn't her beloved sister. “Anna, don't do this. Come home with me. It's not too late. Everyone will welcome you—”

“Everyone will be glad to see the last of me, you mean.”

“You know that's not true. We only want you to come home.”

“And be exactly like everyone else.” Something that might have been hurt flickered in her blue eyes. “I can't. I don't want to. Jarrod's mother says I can stay with them until I figure out what I want to do.”

It seemed incredible that the boy's mother would encourage this. Surely she must think that her son was too young to form a lasting attachment.

“I know you think you love him, but this is only going to bring unhappiness. You're both so young—”

“You wouldn't say that if I were talking about marrying Eli Stoltzfus or Martin Brand.” She shrugged. “Anyway, it's not like that. They're just helping me because they think I have a right to make my own decisions.”

“I will not argue that. But what about the police? The chief said—”

“That's taken care of. Mrs. Wells got a lawyer for me. I just plead guilty to driving without a license, and I'll be put on probation for a few months. See? My friends are taking care of me.”

“It's gut of them to help you.” Anna was getting off easy, Leah felt. Because of the Wells family involvement? She didn't know.

“It is.” Anna's face was stony.

Leah reached out a tentative hand toward her sister. “But we love you. How can you decide to leave us this way? Don't you love us anymore?”

For a moment she thought Anna wouldn't answer. Then her lips trembled a little, and her eyes filled with tears.

“I love you.” She blinked rapidly. “That's what makes it so hard. But this is right for me. Really.” She flung out her hands. “Don't you see? I have to find out what the world is like. I have to see for myself. I can't just settle down and get married and never know anything else. Can't you understand that? Sometimes I feel as if I'm going to explode if I don't get away from here.”

“I know things have been upset, with Mamm's health and Mamm and Daadi moving into the daadi haus—”

“It's not that.” She shook her head decisively, her hair flaring out and then fluttering against her cheek. “I admit that's pushed me along, but this has been coming for a long time.” She smiled a little sadly. “You just didn't notice. Leah, please, try to understand. Try to forgive me for hurting Mamm and Daad. I'm sorry. But I have to go and see what the world is like. I have to.”

Leah didn't want to understand. She wanted to take Anna's hand, the way she had when Anna was little, and lead her back home. But she couldn't.

Leah was meant to stay, she knew that now. But it seemed that Anna was equally convinced that it was her time to go.

“I will miss you. More than you know.”

Relief flooded Anna's face. “You understand.”

“No, not entirely. But I accept that you feel you have to go.” She opened her arms to Anna, her heart full of love and pain. “Da Herr sei mit du. The Lord be with you.”

Anna threw her arms around Leah in a fierce hug. “I love you, Leah.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “Thank you.”

Leah stroked the silky hair. “Just don't disappear, the way Johnny did. Don't forget us.”

“I won't.” Anna pressed her cheek against Leah's.

Pain ricocheted through her, and she remembered the first time she'd held her baby sister, her heart overflowing with love.

Please, Father. Please. Bring our Anna back to us one day.

•   •   •

She
was almost home already, and she still hadn't figured out what she was going to say to her parents. Leah reached across to touch Ben's sleeve, knowing he was unlikely to hear her with his favorite country music blaring from the radio.

“Just drop me here. I'd like to walk the rest of the way.”

His eyebrows lifted. “You sure of that?”

“I have some thinking to do.”

He pulled up at the edge of Daniel's pasture. “I'm sorry about this business with Anna. Hope everything works out all right.”

“I do, too.” Her throat thickened, and she couldn't say more. But Ben was a good friend to the Amish, and he'd understand.

She slid out, raising her hand in a wave as he drove away.

Walking along the road, even in the heat of the summer sun, was better than being cooped up in an automobile. She took her bonnet off and let it dangle from her fingers.

Tiger lilies had begun to open along the side of the road, their orange blossoms unfurling, and Daniel's cows surveyed her from the other side of the fence. It was beautiful, and peaceful, and Anna was rejecting it. Rejecting the life she'd always lived in favor of the unknown.

Mamm and Daadi wouldn't take her word for Anna's decision, of course. They'd insist on trying to talk to her themselves, sure that they could make her see sense.

But Anna wouldn't change her mind. She was set on this course. One day, if God chose, she might realize that here was where she belonged.

Leah's vision blurred with unshed tears, and she closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she saw Daniel, working on the fence at the corner where his lane met the county road.

Maybe that was why she'd had that urge to get out of the car, if she were truthful with herself. She'd hoped to see Daniel. Hoped to borrow a little of his strength for the ordeal ahead of her.

He saw her coming and straightened from his work, watching as she approached. “Was ist letz?” he asked as soon as she was close enough. “What's the matter?”

She stopped, finding it harder than she'd expected to answer the question.

He touched her hand gently, drawing her closer. “Anna? She's not coming home, is she?”

So he'd guessed. The tears spilled over before Leah could stop them. “She's gone to her English friends.”

“She might change her mind once she's thought about it a bit.” He brushed away the tears on her cheek, and his fingers were warm against her skin. “Maybe it's not too late.”

“I don't think so.”

Anna wouldn't come home. She wouldn't kneel before the
congregation, confess her sin, and receive their forgiveness and love. Leah fought back tears so she could speak.

“Maybe for now, that's the right thing. It seems she'll never be happy unless she's seen some of the world. Maybe, once she's seen it, she'll realize her place is here.”

He took her hands in his. “Is that what you believe?”

“It's what I hope and pray.”

“Then I will hope and pray that also.” His fingers tightened on hers. “Has she left it to you to tell your parents?”

She nodded. “I wish I could find the words to break it to them gently.”

“They will not be surprised.”

She looked up at him, startled at the comment, and realized he was probably right. She longed to protect them, but they wouldn't be surprised. They knew Anna.

“What makes you so wise?”

He smiled, shaking his head. “I'm not so wise. But I care.” The smile faded, and his blue eyes grew very serious. “This is not the time or the place, but I cannot wait any longer to ask this. Leah, will you be my wife?”

Her breath caught in her throat, and the waving meadow grass blurred. She looked at him—at the strong column of his neck, the firmness of his jaw, the kindness in his eyes.

Looking at him, she seemed to see the life that would be hers if she said yes. The children, the laughter, the sharing. It was all there within her grasp. But she couldn't take it.

“I'm sorry.” The words came out in a whisper, and she took a deep breath and lifted her chin. She wouldn't be a coward about this. “I thought I could do without love, but I've learned something about myself in the past few months. I can't marry without it. You can't offer me your heart, Daniel. So I'll have to settle for being your friend.”

“Leah.” His voice was husky, and his fingers tightened on hers when she tried to pull free. “Knowing you has turned all that I thought I knew upside down. I've been so foolish, comparing you with Ruth and thinking that if you were around the English, you'd want to be one. I
see now that the gut work you do at the clinic has only made you stronger.”