Inescapable (16 page)

I felt a tear slide down my face, but I quickly wiped it away. “You've got to give me time to think.”

“That's no problem.” He let go of my hand, reached into his pocket, and pulled out an envelope, which he pushed toward me. “Here, take this. Like I said, it's not a lot. Certainly not all the child support I should have been paying all these years, but it's all I've got right now. I'll get more. Eventually, I'll make it up to you.”

I took the envelope and slid it into the pocket of my apron. “Are you working? I mean, your family always had so much money.”

“Yes, there's money, but it's not mine yet. I chose to start at the bottom in my father's company so I could make my own way. Earn a place in our family business instead of having it handed to me on a silver platter.” He smiled. “I'm making a decent living, but I'm certainly not rich. Someday, when I deserve it, I'll run Troyer Enterprises, but I intend to handle things differently than my father. I want our employees to respect me in a way they didn't respect him.”

“Does your mother know you're here?”

He nodded. “Yes, and with her blessing. My father was the one who wanted nothing to do with you. My mother would love to see her granddaughter. I'm afraid my father's hatred has cost all of us too much.”

“I can certainly understand that,” I said softly.

“I know you can.” Clay stood up and went to get his coat that was flung over the back of a chair in the corner of the room. “You get to bed.” He took a small notepad out of his wallet and a pen from his pocket. Then he scribbled something on it. “Here,” he said, handing it to me. “That's the number of the motel in Belleville. If you want to see me again, call me. I won't call you, and I won't come back.” He smiled sadly at me. “If I don't hear from you by Sunday evening, I'll check out Monday morning and go back where I came from. You won't hear from me again, except for further checks to help you raise our daughter.”

Without another word, he walked out the front door. I watched as he started his car, turned around, and drove out of town. Snow had started falling again, and the flakes danced in the light from the front porch like little white ballerinas. I felt more bewildered than I ever had in my entire life. One man was dead, and another man I used to love with my whole heart had come back into my life. Finally, because there was nothing else I could do, I bowed my head and prayed, tears dripping on the tabletop.

“God, I need wisdom. Do I stay or do I go? And what about Clay? Is this why you brought me here? So that Charity could have a father? Could you please make my pathway clear so I don't make a mistake? Maybe you do love me the way Ruth says. I understand the love of a parent for a child. If you really do love me like that . . .” I sobbed, unable to control my emotions. After a few seconds I tried again. “If . . . if you really do love me like that, it would be so wonderful. Please forgive me if I've misjudged you. I'm really sorry. Maybe we could start over. If . . . if that would be okay with you.” I opened my eyes and looked toward the ceiling. “Please help me, Father. Please deliver me. If you do, I'll serve you the rest of my life. I promise.”

As the last syllables faded from my voice, a quiet peace invaded my entire being. And I wept again.

The next morning dawned cold and raw.
The wind whipped the barren trees outside like stalks of wheat, but the Saturday morning regulars filed in anyway. Just as Cora had said, almost every customer was single. Most of them widowed. Most of them male. Other than church events, this weekly ritual had become their primary social connection.

I'd crawled out of bed when I heard Cora come in, even though she tried to be extra quiet so as not to wake me. Hearing her stirring around downstairs was easy, since I'd never fallen asleep in the first place. As tired as I was, I'd spent the night lying in bed wondering what to do. Wondering about the dead man. Wondering if I should say anything or just be quiet. In the end, I decided to keep my mouth shut and wait. I'd asked God to guide me, and I didn't feel the urge to leave Kingdom. If the doctor in Washington ruled the death an accident, maybe this would all go away on its own, and I wouldn't have to tell the sheriff anything.

Several questions continued to haunt me, though. Perhaps his death put an end to his stalking, but I still had no idea why he'd started following me in the first place. And I wasn't sure if he'd actually sent the notes. If he was connected to Reba, then perhaps her vendetta was at an end. It was possible that Charity and I were finally safe. But just in case, the first chance I got next week, I'd drive into Washington and open a bank account. The sooner that check from Clay cleared, the quicker I could draw the money out if we needed to leave Kingdom. While it was possible the death of the man in the red cap meant we wouldn't have to run anymore, it could just as easily mean I was one step closer to being jailed. There was no way for me to know. All I could do was try to trust God to help me make the right decision.

The other thoughts that had rambled around in my mind, chasing away sleep, had to do with Clay. I'd been angry for many years, and now I'd found out that he'd really cared about me all along. That he'd wanted to be part of my life. As usual, I'd assumed the worst, never thinking that he might be dealing with his own problems. One thing for sure, I intended to take it slow in that area. My daughter's feelings were of utmost importance. Telling her he was her daddy and then having him leave again would be too hurtful. I couldn't allow that to happen.

During the night as I'd lain in the dark, I realized one other truth had to be faced. I had deep feelings for Noah Housler, and they weren't just feelings of friendship. Noah had been raised Mennonite, just like I had. Well, not quite the same. His parents were very loving people. Yet no matter how understanding his mother might be, I was pretty certain she wouldn't be thrilled about her son marrying a woman with an illegitimate child. I sincerely doubted that was Noah's desire either. I decided that my affection for Noah wasn't going anywhere, and forgetting about him was the only choice open for me.

I stumbled through the morning so tired I kept making mistakes. After the main breakfast rush died down, Cora sent me back upstairs to take a nap. This time it didn't take long for me to drift off. I dreamt that I stood alone on the bank of a large river. On the other side I could see the town of Kingdom. Several people stood there, bidding me to come to them. At first I only recognized my mother and Cora. But then I realized Clay was there, too, holding Charity's hand. There was a small boat fastened to a dock in front of me, so I untied it and got in. As I rowed to the other side, the waves became choppier, threatening to toss me into the water. I called out for help and finally saw another boat coming my way. A rescuer.

At first I couldn't see his face, though I tried desperately to make it out. Just before he reached me, I realized it was Noah. He kept telling me to row toward him, but my oars were so heavy, I couldn't move them in the water. Even though I tried to hold on, they slipped from my grasp.

I woke with a start, my breathing quick and heavy. I thought I'd been asleep only a few minutes, but when I looked at the clock, two hours had gone by. In spite of the disturbing dream, I definitely felt better. I got up, brushed my hair, and headed back downstairs to find only two customers in the restaurant.

“Hey, did you get some rest?” Cora asked when she saw me.

“Yes, thank you so much. It's just what I needed.”

“Well, you may get a lot more. The weather's gettin' really bad. I'm sendin' everyone home. As soon as these two finish up, I'm headin' outta here before it gets any worse.” As if confirming Cora's declaration, a gust of wind shook the old building, and our two stragglers gathered their jackets and hats. Cora checked them out and grabbed her own coat.

“Honey, I'm gettin' out of here while I still can,” she said. “You lock up the place and batten down the hatches. We may be in for a pretty bad storm.” She frowned at me. “I checked the generator. You should be fine.”

I smiled at the kind woman who had given Charity and me a safe harbor. “You take care going home.”

“Won't take me but a couple of minutes. I'll be fine. Charity's drawin' in the kitchen. Tell her I said good-bye, okay?”

I nodded as she went out the front door and down the steps to her car. She had to hold on to the handrail to stay on her feet. But her trusty car started right up, and she pulled away seconds later. I flipped the Open sign to Closed and watched her until I could no longer see her taillights.

I glanced over at the clock. It was only a little after three. As soon as I finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes, I'd have the rest of the day to myself. I'd just started to gather the dirty plates when someone knocked on the door. I looked up to see Hope standing there, the wind whipping her cape around. She reminded me of a big black bird, its wings beating furiously. She had one hand on the doorknob, the other hand trying desperately to keep her bonnet on her head. I hurried toward the entrance so I could let her in.

“Who's at the door, Mama?” Charity had come out to see what was going on.

“It's Hope, honey. You go back and start cleaning up your papers. We'll go upstairs pretty soon and watch some videos. Okay?”

She smiled and nodded. As she headed into the kitchen, I opened the front door and Hope practically fell into the room.

“It's not locked,” I told her. “In fact, I almost always forget to lock that door. One example of the difference between Kingdom and Kansas City.”

Hope chuckled. “And an example of my automatic obedience to signs. I didn't even try to open it.”

“You'd better head home soon,” I said, fighting the wind as I tried to shut the door.

“We're on our way now,” she said breathlessly. “But I had to tell you something. It's about the meeting Monday. I couldn't talk to you about it last night because I was with Papa.”

“I wondered what happened.” I pointed at a nearby table. “Do you want to sit down?”

“No. Papa is locking up the shop, and we will leave right away.” She sighed. “Oh, Lizzie, it was a disaster. They made no progress at all. Papa tried his best to bring some kind of peace between the dismissed elders, their followers who still attend the church, and Pastor Mendenhall, but he couldn't. Your father and the men on his side wouldn't budge. They insisted that our pastor resign. They want to bring new leadership to the church. They want your father to be the new pastor.”

“My . . . my father? That just can't happen. He's not . . . I mean, he wouldn't be . . .”

“Yes, I know,” she said simply.

“So what happens now?”

“Pastor Mendenhall is calling for a vote this Sunday, after Communion.”

“Of course.” The tradition in the church required that male members vote for all new ministers. “But how will that help my father and his supporters who have left the church? They have no vote.”

Hope shook her head. “My father has never heard of such a thing occurring, but in hopes of fostering unity, Pastor Mendenhall insisted that all those who left the church be allowed to attend the meeting and cast their vote.”

“That had to give my father hope that he'll get his way.”

“Yes, but Pastor Mendenhall insists that the women vote as well. Your father was pleased with Pastor's decision to bring those who left back in for the vote, but he is furious with the suggestion that women be included.”

I stared at her openmouthed for a moment, but then I smiled. “Boy, Pastor Mendenhall is getting pretty gutsy. I like that.”

“I do too,” Hope said, “but I'm wondering if his suggestion might backfire on him. How will the men in our congregation react? The women have never been given the opportunity to vote before.”

I snorted. “I hate to inform my father and his followers, but women have had the vote for a while now.”

Hope tried to suppress a grin but couldn't. “So I hear.”

A knock on the door revealed Hope's father, Samuel, standing on the porch, motioning for her to come with him. She waved at him.

“I must go,” she said, “but I thought you should know about this. We all need to pray very hard. Our church, even our town, may be at stake.” She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, and then she left.

I watched her and her father climb into their buggy and head home. Thankfully, they didn't live far, because their buggy swayed and rocked in the strong gusts. Daisy lowered her head and fought the wind's fury, as if determined to get her masters to safety.

I finished cleaning up while Charity picked out a video. With cups of hot chocolate, we settled in to watch our favorite movie,
Sleeping Beauty
, while the storm outside grew more intense. True to Cora's word, our electricity stayed on. The generator was housed in a strong ventilated shed in back of the building. It would take a pretty strong wind to bring it down. But if that happened, the fire I built in our stove would keep us plenty warm.

I forced myself to think about the movie and block out all the other images that tried to capture my thoughts. Today was a day for Charity and me. Besides, I needed the mental break. Suddenly, Charity called out.

“Mama, Mama! Stop the movie! Stop the movie!”

I grabbed the remote control and pressed Pause. “What's the matter, honey? Is something wrong?”

She pointed at the screen. “See? Prince Phillip looks just like that man who came to see us.”

I looked at the cartoon character carefully. “Well, I guess they do look a little alike, Cherry Bear. But trust me, Noah isn't Prince Phillip. Besides, Noah's hair is a little lighter, and he has green eyes, not brown.”

Charity shook her head, her curls bouncing with the action. “You're not looking with the right eyes, Mama. You better look again.”

I sighed. When Charity was convinced of something, it was almost impossible to change her mind. “Okay, maybe Noah looks a little like the prince. But he isn't, and I don't want to talk about it anymore. Let's finish our movie. Okay? We need to be thinking about dinner before long.”

She started to say something when we heard the door downstairs open and Cora shout my name.

“You stay here, honey. I'll be right back.” I hurried down the stairs wondering why Cora would risk getting out in the storm.

“Lizzie?” she called again. She sounded upset.

“I'm here, Cora. What in heaven's name . . .”

She stood near the front door, clutching her keys in her hand. The panic on her face frightened me. “Lizzie, I . . . I've got to leave. Right now. My sister's taken a turn for the worse, and I have to go to Oregon to be with her. I booked a flight from Topeka that leaves in three hours. With the weather so bad, I'm not sure I can make it there in time, but I have to try.”

“But . . . but what about . . .”

She took some keys off her chain and handed them to me. “Here are the keys to the restaurant and to my house. We have enough food to get through the next week.” Then she gave me a large envelope. “If I'm gone longer than that, there's a check in here from the bank in Washington. You cash it. It will give you some money to buy what you need. Before you go to town, call Maybelle Miller at Maybelle's Restaurant. Her number's in there. Except for what I buy from local farmers, I have my supplies sent to her. Maybelle will sell you some of what she has if she's got any extra, and she'll help you put in an order for whatever else you need.

“I also made a list of the farmers I buy food from. Most of my vegetables and fruits are in canning jars downstairs. I'm sure you saw them on the shelves when you were down there, but if you need more, you can contact any of the farmers. They put up extra every year just in case I run out.” She sighed and shook her head. “I keep hopin' someone will open a store here in Kingdom so my restaurant supplies aren't so hard to come by, but for now, this is what you have to do to keep us stocked.”

I nodded.

“I'll call you after I get to Oregon and get my sister settled. Just write down any questions you have, and I'll answer them then.” She hugged me tightly. “Please keep the restaurant goin' for me, Lizzie. I can't afford to have it shut down.” She let me go and put her hand on my cheek. “I'm sorry to do this to you, honey, but I have no other choice. My sister has no one else.”

She turned to leave as I stood there with the keys and the envelope in my hand. I was flabbergasted. I couldn't refuse her after her kindness to me, but how could I run the restaurant alone?

I heard myself say, “Everything will be all right, Cora. Don't worry.” It was as if someone else was moving my lips and saying those words. How would everything be all right? I'd never run a restaurant by myself. Even when Betty was on a bender, I'd left all the important matters for her to take care of when she got back. Besides, I had my own problems and couldn't be sure how much longer I'd be around.

As she headed for the front door Cora turned and said, “Oh, and get in touch with Callie Hoffman. She inquired about a job a while back, before I hired you. She's trustworthy and a good worker. She'll help you get through. You settle on a wage for her, and I'll pay it. God bless you, Lizzie. I'll be praying for you. Please do the same for my sister and me.”