Inescapable (7 page)

Charity mulled this over, her mouth pursed in thought. “Okay, milk,” she said seriously.

I flashed Cora a thumbs-up, and she scurried away to fill our order. I glanced around the room, feeling rather conspicuous but thankful that almost everyone had gone back to their meals. Those who met my gaze smiled warmly at me. This was a much different reaction than the one I'd received after Charity was born. The town really
was
changing.

But then I spotted John Lapp sitting at a table across the room. His expression was far from welcoming. After one angry glance, he refused to look my way again. He and his wife, Frances, had been my chief accusers. I could still remember Frances's scathing diatribe condemning me and my “ungodly behavior.” I'd never denied that I'd sinned, and I'd told her how repentant I was. But that wasn't enough for Frances. I had a feeling that tarring and feathering me still wouldn't have fulfilled her need to see me punished. John was an elder in the church, cut out of the same cloth as my father. I'd bet everything I owned, which wasn't much, that John was one of the elders who'd left with him.

I looked the other way, ignoring John the same way he chose to disregard me. As a rather large family got up to leave, I noticed a young man who had previously been hidden from my view. He was sitting alone in the corner staring intently at me. His brownish blond hair curled over the collar of his blue denim work shirt.

For a moment I didn't recognize him, but it only took a few seconds before I realized the handsome man who seemed to find me so interesting was Noah Housler. I took a sharp intake of breath. He was even better looking than I'd remembered. I was so surprised to see him I couldn't seem to think clearly. What was he doing here? He'd left Kingdom a couple of years before I did, headed for college and life somewhere else.

It struck me as odd that, until that moment, I hadn't thought about Noah for years. He had been my best friend. We'd shared many happy times together, running around Kingdom, laughing and talking about almost everything. He'd been the most popular boy in the Washington school. Although Kingdom children weren't allowed to go further than the eighth grade, Noah's father had rebelled against the church elders and demanded that his son stay and graduate.

The main reason I liked school was because it gave me time away from Father and allowed me to spend time with Noah. As we got older he spent most of his time at his family's farm, and in church, the boys and girls were carefully kept separated. But at school we had special classes and assemblies together, even though he was a year ahead of me.

Without warning, a memory popped into my mind that I hadn't thought about since I'd left Kingdom. My father had spanked me with a branch after some small infraction. I was eight years old and Noah was nine. He found me behind the church, crying. Instead of asking me what was wrong, he just came over and sat down next to me, holding out his arm so I could nestle against his shoulder. I'd never been that physically close to a boy before. It felt strange yet exhilarating. He smoothed my hair with his other hand.

“It will be all right, Lizzie,”
he'd said gently.
“I promise you that someday everything will work out. Don't be afraid. I'll watch over you.”
We never talked about it again, but I knew he was looking out for me from that moment on. No one bullied me at school again without Noah warning them to leave me alone. I suddenly remembered the time he beat up Roger Carson not long before I left school. Roger had been teasing me, and Noah lit into him without a moment of hesitation. It was the only time I ever saw Noah lift a finger to another human being. He got in a lot of trouble for it, both at school and in church. He apologized, but I knew he wasn't really sorry. There were many times before I left when I wished he'd hold me again like he did the day after my father's whipping. But he never did. No boy did. Until Clay.

“Whatsa matter, Mama?” Charity said loudly. “Are you sick?”

The sound of Charity's voice made me jump. I'd been lost in my thoughts and was horrified to realize I'd been staring at Noah. I quickly looked away. “Hush, Cherry Bear,” I said under my breath. “I'm not sick.”

She screwed up her face with concern. “But you look all funny.”

I frowned at her. “If you don't be quiet, I'm going to—”

“Lizzie?” a deep male voice said.

I looked up and found Noah standing next to me. My heart leapt into my throat. His emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't find my voice.

He smiled. “It
is
you. I thought so.”

I nodded like an idiot, unable to tear my eyes from his. They were even greener than I remembered. “Yes . . . yes it's me,” I said finally, my voice squeaky. “How are you, Noah?”

His hands clasped his wide-brimmed black hat. “I'm fine. Still living at home, farming wheat and raising milk cows.”

“But you went to college. I didn't think you'd ever come back to Kingdom.”

“I did go for a couple of years, but my father died not long after you went away. That left my mother alone with my brother, Levi. He's a good man, but he's not a farmer. Never was. So I came home to help out.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.” And I was. Even though I was thrilled to see him, he was someone who'd had a chance at a better life. And here he was, trapped in Kingdom against his will, his dreams left unfulfilled.

He chuckled, a deep throaty sound that made my face feel warm. “I was glad to come home, Lizzie. You may find this hard to believe, but I never wanted to leave Kingdom in the first place. That was my father's plan, not mine. I happen to love it here.”

If seeing Noah again hadn't been enough of a jolt to my system, hearing him say he actually wanted to live in this small backward town certainly completed my sense of disorientation.

“I don't understand.”

He nodded slowly. “No, I guess you wouldn't. I heard that this town wasn't kind to you. But I believe those attitudes can change, and I'm determined to make that happen.” He smiled shyly. “My brother and I were recently asked to accept eldership positions at church, and we're both working hard to bring a new spirit to Kingdom.” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, your father doesn't understand. He believes our goal is to destroy what he and others have tried so hard to build.” He gazed down at his hat, turning it round and round in his long fingers. “I won't say anything bad about your father, though. He's a good man who sees things in a different light than I do. I'm just sorry he dislikes me so much.”

“I . . . I don't know what to say, Noah.” I looked at my daughter, who was talking softly to The Princess. I swung my gaze back to Noah. “I truly hope you can make a difference here. This town has been a bastion of rules and regulations all my life. And God help those of us who prove too weak to measure up to the standard.”

“I know, and I'm sorry, Lizzie. Sorry for your pain, and sorry that I wasn't there for you. If I'd only known . . .”

I tried to pull up a smile. “You had your own life to live. Fighting my battles was never your job, even though you seemed to think it was.”

His eyes sought mine. “I liked fighting your battles,” he said softly. “And I never forgot about you. When I came home and found out you were gone, I tried to find you. But no one here knew where you were.”

I nodded. “I didn't tell anyone.” I glanced over at Charity, who was still busy with her doll. I couldn't tell Noah I'd left town because of her. If she overheard me and understood, it would hurt her and devastate me.

Noah followed my gaze and seemed to understand. He quickly changed the subject. “So you're here visiting your parents?” he asked.

I didn't answer right away, trying to figure how to tell him we were here for more than a visit without going into details.

“I'm sorry. It's not my business . . .”

“Oh no. It's not that. I'm afraid there's no simple answer, Noah. Maybe one of these days when you have time, I'll tell you all about it.”

He smiled at Charity, who had forgotten her doll and was now gawking at him with her mouth hanging open. I felt a rush of embarrassment.

“I'd like that, Lizzie. Maybe we could get together sometime soon?”

I nodded, trying to quell the nervous fluttering of anxious butterflies in my stomach. “Sure. That sounds good.”

“Well, I'd better get back to the house. My mother will have dinner waiting.”

I frowned at him. “If your mother's making dinner, what are you doing here?”

He laughed. “Cora makes the best apple pie I've ever tasted. I could never tell my mother that, so I sneak in here a couple times a week and order a piece. You just happened to catch me.”

I grinned at him. “I won't tell. I promise.”

“Thank you.” He put his hat back on his head and said good-bye to Charity, who continued to stare at him with wide eyes. She didn't say anything in response to his gesture.

I started to chastise my daughter for being rude, but before I could get a word out, she took a deep breath, turned toward me and said, “Mama, this man looks just like Prince Phillip . . . from
Sleeping Beauty
.” She fastened her gaze back on Noah, staring at him with an expression that bordered on adoration. “Are you Prince Phillip? My mama has been waiting for you such a long, long time.”

I tried to choke out an explanation
of my daughter's fascination with the story of the sleeping princess while feeling the most mortified I've ever been in my entire life. Noah seemed to take it well. He just laughed, patted Charity on the head, and left. I could hear him chuckling all the way to the front door.

A family I didn't know, sitting at a table near us, found the entire episode very entertaining. I, however, did not.

“Charity Lynn, don't you ever say something like that again,” I whispered to her. “Prince Phillip is a character in your movie. He isn't real.”

“I'm sorry, Mama,” she said, totally unconcerned about my severe humiliation. “But that man looks just like Prince Phillip. I really think it might be him.”

I sighed, wondering how in the world I could explain to my little girl that there weren't really princes in the world who ride in on white horses and rescue sleeping princesses. But as I stared into her cherubic face, I just couldn't do it. “Please don't say that to anyone else, Cherry Bear. Okay? We'll have to keep that secret between us.”

That seemed to satisfy her—for the time being. My daughter loved secrets. The idea of having one would keep her quiet for a long time. I wondered if Charity's inappropriate remark had scared Noah away. I longed for the friend I'd had as a girl. The boy I could tell almost anything to. But Noah wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man, and I was a woman with a child. That old friendship was gone, replaced with polite banter. An almost overwhelming sense of sadness overtook me.

Cora brought our food, which was absolutely delicious. My first bite of her fried chicken reminded me how much I'd loved it when I was younger. Her meatball sub forgotten, Charity proclaimed Cora's cheeseburger to be the best she'd ever eaten. I'd noticed that she seemed much happier since we'd left Kansas City. I'd expected her to be somewhat insecure about leaving her home and her school, but that hadn't happened. Thinking about school made me realize that I'd need to make a decision about her education before too much time passed. Since I had no idea how long we'd be in town, I had no choice but to wait for circumstances to guide me in an appropriate path.

I glanced up at the clock on the wall as I finished my last bite of chicken. We'd been in the café for over an hour and a half. Where was my mother? As if answering my silent question, the front door of the restaurant swung open, and she came in, her black cape wrapped tightly around her. As she approached our table, I could tell she'd been crying. She sat down next to me, pulling her chair close.

“I am so sorry, Lizzie,” she said quietly, trying to keep her voice soft so no one else could hear. “Your father refuses to allow you to come home.”

Cora had come up next to us, probably to see if she could get my mother anything. She frowned at my Mother's statement.

“Charity,” Cora said, “would you like to come and see my kitchen? I can show you where I cook all the food. And I might be able to find a nice piece of chocolate cake if your mother will allow you to have it.”

“Chocolate cake,” Charity said breathlessly. “My favorite food in the whole world.”

I could have pointed out that whatever she was eating at the moment was her favorite food in the whole world, but instead, I just nodded. “That sounds great, Cherry Bear. You go with Cora, and I'll wait here with Grandma.” I gave Cora a look of gratitude, and she smiled.

I waited until Charity was gone. “He's never going to forgive me, is he? Doesn't he even want to see his granddaughter? She was only a baby the last time he laid eyes on her.”

“Oh, Lizzie,” my mother said, wiping her eyes with a napkin she picked up from the table. “He is so embittered. Much worse than he was when you left. Truthfully, it would not be good for either one of you to be in our house right now.”

“Well, that's great. Now I have nowhere to go.” This turn in the road made it perfectly clear that the voice I'd heard telling me to come back to Kingdom wasn't God. I felt foolish for believing for a minute that He might be interested in my life.

“I do not know what to say, Daughter, but perhaps we can find somewhere else for you and Charity to lodge.”

I grunted. “There aren't any hotels in Kingdom, Mother. And if Father won't take me in, I doubt anyone else will.”

“Actually, they would.”

I jumped, not realizing Cora had returned. She stood on the other side of my chair. “Charity's in the kitchen with her chocolate cake. She's fine.” Cora sat down in the chair where my daughter had been only a few minutes earlier. “I overheard you say you have no place to stay.” She patted my shoulder. “I have an offer for you, Lizzie. There's room for you here. In fact, there's an entire floor upstairs. Most of it's used for storage right now, but there's also space for bedrooms. My sister's stayed there when she's come to visit. There's only one bed up there now, but I have a cot in another room. You and Charity should be very comfortable. And with a little cleanin' and some additional furniture, we can turn that space into a very nice apartment.”

“I-I don't have much money,” I said slowly. “I'm not sure I can afford it.”

Cora chuckled. “I'm not chargin' you anything, dear.”

I shook my head. “I'm sorry, I don't understand. You're offering us a place to live rent free?”

Cora grinned at me. “And you want to know what the catch is?”

I nodded while the wind rocked the building with its bluster. I had no desire to take Charity out in the middle of a winter storm, but at the same time, a familiar sense of suspicion stirred inside me. It fought tooth and nail against that old saying about not looking a gift horse in the mouth.

“The catch is that you'll work for me, Lizzie. Since Julie left I've been tryin' to run this place by myself, and it's just too much for me. So I'm offerin' you a job and a place to live. All your meals will be free, and there aren't any other bills for you to think about. I can't pay you much, but since you won't be buyin' food, payin' rent, or worryin' about utility payments, I'm confident you'll do just fine.” She frowned at me. “I don't suppose you've had any experience workin' in a restaurant.”

I burst out laughing. “Yes, lots in fact.” I briefly told her about my stint at Betty's.

Cora clapped her hands together. “How wonderful.” She reached over and grabbed my hand. “It was meant to be, Lizzie. Isn't God good?”

I nodded dumbly, not knowing what else to say. So God had brought me to Kingdom to be a waitress? Great. That sounded about right.

Then, realizing that Charity and I weren't going to be thrown out into the snowstorm, I instantly felt ashamed of myself.

“Thank you, Cora. I'll gladly accept your offer. You have my gratitude.”

She smiled. “And you have mine. I know we'll become great friends. And it's actually fun workin' here. There are still residents in Kingdom who refuse to darken my door . . .” She hesitated a moment. “Like your father,” she said finally. “But for the most part, I've been accepted by the entire town. Even those who are a little more strict in their beliefs.”

My mother sighed, looking around the charming, cozy restaurant. “This is the first time I have been inside in all these years. Not quite the den of iniquity my husband made it out to be.”

Cora nodded. “Just families comin' in to eat. I wish Matthew would give us a chance. He might actually enjoy gatherin' together with his neighbors.”

My first thought was to ask Cora if she'd ever actually
met
my father, but I let it go. He certainly wasn't the “gathering together with his neighbors” type. Not unless someone was being burned at the stake.

“I hope he will do that someday, Cora,” Mother said. “But this is not a good time for him. Or for our church.”

Cora raised one eyebrow. “I have to say I'm hopin' these changes will actually bring us closer to God. To who God really is.”

Mother shook her head. “I am afraid my husband does not see it that way. He believes the influence of the world will destroy us—that those who are promoting change will ruin Kingdom from the inside out.”

“And what do you believe, Anna?” Cora asked.

Mother's eyelids fluttered at the question. She wasn't used to being asked her opinion. Was she already regretting her honesty with me earlier? Would she speak her mind in front of Cora?

Mother stared down at the table, running her fingers, reddened by work and weather, along the grain pattern in the wood. “It is my job to support my husband in whatever he does,” she said softly. “But . . .”

She was silent for a moment, while Cora and I waited for her to continue. When she spoke, her voice trembled with emotion. “I lost my daughter and my granddaughter because of my husband's beliefs.” She looked up, her eyes shiny with tears. “I must confess that I cannot believe that was God's will. I have been praying . . .” She gave me a tremulous smile. “I have been asking God for a sign that it isn't too late to have Elizabeth Lynn and Charity back in my life, and now they are here.” She shook her head. “I must believe this is God's answer. That He has heard me.”

She covered her face with her hands and took a deep breath. Then she put her hands down and glanced up at the clock on the wall. A look of panic crossed her face, and she quickly rose to her feet. “Matthew will be furious with me if I do not get home and make his dinner.” She rested her small fingers on Cora's shoulder. “Thank you, my dear friend, for being an answer to prayer. I will never forget your kindness.”

She looked at me, a single tear running slowly down her cheek. “I will find some things from the house to bring to you. Warm blankets, sheets, towels, whatever you might need.” She straightened up to her entire five-foot height, her back ramrod straight, her expression determined. “I cannot come back on Monday because I have promised to work on a quilt with some of the ladies in the church, but I
will
return on Tuesday, Lizzie, no matter what your father says. And I will spend time with you and my granddaughter. In fact, we will have lunch together in this wonderful place. That is, if you will have me, Cora.”

Cora's smile almost split her face in two. “I would be honored, Anna. And since your daughter now works for me, all meals for her family are on me.”

My mother looked puzzled.

“‘On me' means your meals are free,” I explained.

Mother looked aghast. “Oh no. I could not—”

“Now, Anna,” Cora said, standing up and facing her, “your daughter will earn every meal she and Charity eat, as well as yours. Trust me.”

Mother considered this. “I will accept,” she said with hesitation. “You have my thanks. I do not have many funds of my own and know that asking my husband for money to spend here would certainly bring a rebuke.”

A sense of guilt swept through me when Mother spoke of money. I still hadn't apologized for taking what she'd managed to scrape together when I left. I couldn't do it now, with Cora listening, but I planned to apologize the first chance I got.

Mother came over and kissed me on the cheek. Then she hugged Charity.

“Bye, Grandma,” Charity said. “Can you bring more butter cookies when you come back?”

Mother laughed. “Yes, I will do that.” She smiled at all of us. “I was so distraught when I first arrived, and I feel so much better now. God's hand is evident, and I will thank Him for His provision tonight in my prayers. May He bless you all.”

She hurried toward the front door, but the wind made it hard for her to pull it open. A man I didn't know rose from his table and held the door for her, shutting it after she was safely on the sidewalk.

“I hate to see her drive that buggy all the way home in this weather,” I said to Cora.

“She'll be fine, child. Besides, there's no other way for her to reach her destination. You know she won't accept a ride in your car or mine. Trust me, I've offered transportation many times to some of these folks when the weather was bad. People like your parents just won't take it.”

“So one of those cars outside is yours?”

She nodded. “Yep, that canary yellow job. Bought it from a guy in Washington about a year ago. And don't think there weren't some terse statements from folks in the church when I drove it home.”

“Cora, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Sure, honey. You can ask me anything.”

“Do . . . do you still believe in God?”

She chuckled. “Do you think buyin' a yellow car means I don't love God anymore?”

“No, of course not. But you're obviously living your life outside the boundaries of the church.”

She smiled kindly. “Lizzie, I didn't lose God when I quit livin' the way a group of men told me to. God is bigger than that. I follow Him now without any help from the elders, and I've never been happier.”

“Really?”

“Darlin', I may not walk into that building at the end of the block on Sundays, but I found out that God is much larger and more gracious than most folks give Him credit for.” She frowned at me. “Look, people can act however they want; I don't make that my business. But I don't intend to allow anyone except the Holy Spirit to tell me how to run my life. I've discovered that God loves me just the way I am. And He doesn't care if I drive a car or ride in a buggy. He cares about my heart. You know, John the Baptist wore camel skins. Maybe I oughta serve folks locusts and wild honey while I'm prancin' around in animal skins. Think that would generate some interest from the elders?” She guffawed like she'd just said the funniest thing in the world.

Charity giggled along with her, although I was certain she had no idea what she was laughing about.