Lorie's Heart (17 page)

She shook away the little voice that said she was being deceitful and concentrated on the absurd rules that the Amish made up. It was a piece of string. Not gold or pearls. She wasn't wearing it in vanity. The whole thing was ridiculous.

Mamm
moved away satisfied that she had done her duty in keeping Lorie on the straight and narrow path to baptism. Sadie sidled up with a tray holding three iced teas. “Can you take these to table four for me? I've got to go to the bathroom.”

“Too much water at lunch?”

“
Jah.
” Sadie nodded, her prayer
kapp
strings dancing across her shoulders.

Lorie would take the drinks to the table, then she would take a little break. She deserved it. And maybe if she went to the storeroom when she knew she had to get back to work, she could resist the urge to paint.

It was another hour before Lorie managed to slip away from the restaurant and up to the storeroom. She didn't have much left on her shift, but she had to take the opportunity when she had it.

The storeroom was a little warm so she removed her apron and fanned herself with a piece of cardboard from one of the boxes.

Lord, please let this answer my questions. Let Betty be right about my
dat.
Amen.

It wasn't a lot to ask. Her faith in her father had been bruised, but not destroyed. He was gone now, and she would love to have that confidence back. The confidence that Betty had when she told Lorie that her father was a good man.

She did her best to ignore the call of her paintings and instead sat cross-legged on the floor next to the box of letters.

The first one she pulled out must have been written long after her father married Maddie. He talked about Cora Ann as a baby and even sent a picture of her sweet, toothless grin.

The following four or five that she read were along the same lines, just a letter to catch Betty up on all that she had missed not being in their lives. But why had her father separated the two parts of his family? What would make him take the people that he loved the most and push them far from each other?

Betty said her father was a good man, and she was holding on to that with everything she had.

Her mother's parents had wanted her? Did that mean they were planning on taking her away from her father? She checked the date on the letter. She would have been three then. It was June, which meant her mother could have only been gone for six months or less. How could anyone want to take a child from their remaining parent so soon after the other's death? She couldn't wrap her mind around it. A strange feeling stole over her, and her skin started to itch. What kind of family did her mother have?

She folded the letter and slipped it back into its envelope.

Suddenly she was more uncomfortable than she had ever been. Her head was sweating, and she thought she might be sick. Her hair was pulled too tight against her scalp. She couldn't take it any longer. She took off her prayer
kapp
and set it to one side, then released the pins securing her hair. The feel of the tresses tumbling down her back was like the taste of freedom.

She breathed a quick sigh of relief and reached for the next letter. She still had so many unanswered questions. So many things that she still didn't know. Did this mean her father only turned Amish to hide out from her mother's family? Is that what everyone meant when they said he just did it to protect her?

The next letter she unfolded shed no more light on these mysteries as she scanned the words he had written. He talked of Daniel and his love for his only son. This was surely what her grandmother meant when she said he was a good man. Everything Henry Kauffman did, he did in love. In love for her and the rest of his family.

But if he wasn't Amish then when did he convert? When had he said his vows in front of the church and God? And why hadn't Maddie mentioned it before? Why had her father never mentioned it? Something like that wouldn't have been a secret. Or maybe it
shouldn't
have been a secret.

Lorie took out another letter and started to read.

He didn't name the town nor did he say anything specific that would identify the place, but it sure sounded like Wells Landing. But when he talked about church was he talking about the Amish or someplace else? There was no way of knowing. He could have been anywhere in eastern Oklahoma. The area was dotted with tiny towns like Wells Landing.

Yet one thing was certain. He had moved wherever to protect her, and she couldn't find fault in that.

She reached for another letter.

Lorie stopped reading and checked the date. It was over a year since the one she read before. He had moved to the small country town and then kept himself in town instead of going to Tulsa to visit with his mother. Why?

If she had any doubts before, they were gone now. Her father had moved to an Amish community and just became one of the residents.

She supposed that was entirely possible. The Amish were a very trusting people. They wouldn't question a man and small daughter who came to live among them. Just look at what happened with Caroline and Emma. She had just shown up one day alone and pregnant. The residents of Wells Landing had taken her in and treated her like one of their own. They had assumed she was a widow and from there Caroline's secret began. Why would they not accept two other wandering souls into their midst?

But her father had moved here from Tulsa. That meant he was
Englisch.
And if he was
Englisch,
what did that make Lorie?

Really, really confused.

Lorie awoke with a start surprised that she had been asleep. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked around at her strange surroundings. She wasn't at home in her bed, but lying on the floor in a room. The storeroom. It started coming back to her. She was in the storeroom above the restaurant. She had come up here to read some of the letters that her father had sent to her grandmother. Her father was really
Englisch
and had only been pretending to be Amish all of these years.

She pushed herself into a sitting position and struggled to wipe the cobwebs from her brain. She must have fallen asleep.

Soon it would be time to open the restaurant. No, not today. Today was Sunday. Soon it would be time for church.

Church!

She was awake in an instant. She had to get out of here and home. It was morning time, that much was certain, but how late was anybody's guess. She had to get home and pray all the way there that she hadn't missed any of the service. But given the bright light pounding through the windows she was already too late.

She pushed to her feet, scooping the letters together and stuffing them back into the box as she stood. She had to get home. She had to get to church. She had to get dressed.

She wrapped her apron around her waist and haphazardly tied it in the back. But there was nothing she could do about her hair. The pins she had removed the night before were nowhere to be seen. Her only choice was to grab her prayer
kapp
and get out of there as quickly as she could.

The sun was bright and high in the sky when she tripped down the stairs. She didn't wear a watch, but it was late. Really, really late. And there was no excuse for her tardiness. How could she explain why she missed church? Her baptism classes.

She dropped onto the bottom step, her head in her hands. She might be able to explain away why she was late for church and wasn't wearing her prayer
kapp,
but there was no excuse for missing her baptism class.

Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet. There was no sense in hurrying now. The damage was done. Dejected and dreading what was to come, she started toward home.

 

 

She was sitting at the table when everyone arrived back home from church. She'd had enough time to walk all the way home, change her clothes, and pull her hair back before they arrived back. She felt a little better now that her prayer
kapp
was in place once again. But she knew it was a false sense of security.

Her sisters were laughing and talking as they came into the house, but all joy ceased the minute they saw her there.

“Sadie, take Daniel upstairs and help him change his clothes.”

“But—”

“Now, Sadie.”

Her sister took Daniel by the hand and led him toward the stairs. He looked back at her, his eyes sad behind his wire-rimmed glasses. Lorie shot him a reassuring smile. He returned it, but in that moment between them, they both knew. Life would not be the same.

“Let's go check on the kittens.” Melanie took Cora Ann by the arm and led her toward the front door.

Mamm'
s steady gaze never wavered from Lorie. A reckoning was near.

Then they were alone.

Maddie continued to look at her. Just look at her.

“I'm sorry,” Lorie finally said. The words sounded hollow and couldn't hold the meaning she felt in her heart.

“I don't know what to say, Lorie.”
Mamm
crossed her arms and took a deep breath. Lorie hated the pain and disappointment on her stepmother's face. “What was so important that you didn't come home last night? That you missed church and your baptism class this morning?”

How could she explain? How could she make
Mamm
understand without revealing all her lies? All the deceptions, trips to Tulsa. Her paintings. The letters. Everything would come out. What was the use in spreading all that pain around? “I'd rather not say.” It would only bring more disappointment, more hurt, and more heartache.

For a moment she thought
Mamm
might completely lose her composure. She recovered, though her cheeks were stained red from her suppressed emotions. “You'd rather not say?” The words were cold, hard, and flat.

“I don't think you would understand.” It was the gentlest way she could say it.

“Is this about the tattoo?”

“I can't believe that it means so little to you.”

“Maybe you are the one who doesn't understand.”
Mamm
pulled out the chair opposite Lorie and sat down. Or rather collapsed into it as if her legs couldn't hold her up any longer.

“Then tell me,” Lorie begged.

She took a deep breath. “When I met your father, he was the greatest man I had ever known. Funny, smart, and a hard worker. I was just coming out of mourning and trying to raise Sadie all on my own.” She twisted her hands together on the tabletop and stared at her fingers as if they held all the answers. “I was thrilled when he showed an interest in me. Then on our wedding night . . . well, I saw the tattoo.”

“Did he explain it to you?”

“He told me he got it on his
rumspringa.
”

“So you just let it go?”

“I chose to not pursue an answer.”

Lorie started to protest, but
Mamm
continued.

“What good would it do? We were already married. It was my duty as his wife to believe him. You have to let this go, Lorie. I'll talk to the bishop, try to explain why you missed the class. Maybe he'll have mercy on you and give you the instruction himself. But you have to let this drop.”

“I can't promise that.” Tears stung her eyes and scalded her cheeks as they slid down her face. There was still so much she hadn't found out. Like what leprechaun pudding really was and if her mother's family was as bad as her father had thought.

Her mother's family. She had an entire side to her family tree that she had never met before. She had never even thought about it. But of course her mother came from somewhere. That meant a grandmother, a grandfather, maybe even aunts and uncles, cousins and more. Lorie deserved the chance to meet them, get to know them.

“You have no choice.” Once again
Mamm'
s voice grew hard and stern, a sure sign she wasn't backing down. “You will either let this go, or you will not remain here.”

“What?”

“If you are going to continue this investigation, or whatever you want to call it, then you cannot live here.”

“I just want to know the truth.”

“And we are just trying to move forward. You are upsetting the other children. You are either a part of this family or not. You have to choose.”

“When?”

“Now.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart stopped. How could she choose? This was the exact reason why she had kept everything a secret. To Maddie Kauffman it was all cut and dried, black and white. There was no space in between. But that space was where she now lived. “I won't choose.”

“Then you will leave. And never come back.”

 

 

Zach pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the caller ID. Lorie. He hadn't expected to talk to her today. What a great surprise. “Hello?”

“Zach?” Her voice was thick and rusty like she had been crying.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” she sobbed. “I'm not. I”—she hiccupped—“have to leave.”

He sat down on the couch just as his sister walked back into the room. He had come to visit her after church and now this.

“Who is it?” Ashtyn asked.

He held up a hand to stay her words and turned his attention back to Lorie. “Leave? What do you mean leave?”

“Can you come get me?”

“Of course.” He stood.

“Who is it?” Ashtyn asked again.

He shushed her. Then to Lorie he said, “I'll be right there.”

“Thank you.” On the other end of the line he heard her breath catch on another sob. “I'm going to the restaurant to get a couple of things. Can you meet me there?”

“I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

“It may take me longer than that to get there.”

“I'll wait for you.”

“Okay. Bye.” And then she was gone.

Zach ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“Who was that?”

“Lorie.” He didn't have time to explain or debate, discuss, or even lightly talk about this. Lorie needed him, and he had to get to her.

“Your Amish girlfriend?”

“She's not my girlfriend.” He said the words, but they tasted bitter on his tongue. As much as they were the truth, he hated them all the more because of it.

“Uh-huh. You've been driving her car for the last three days.”

“That doesn't mean anything.”

“Whatever.” His sister rolled her eyes. “I see how your face lights up when you talk about her.”

That might be true, but it didn't push their relationship into the we-can-work-this-out category. So much stood in their way, things that could never be brought to terms. “I'm going to get her. Find out what's happened.”

“Is she okay?”

“I think so.” But he hated hearing her cry. It broke his heart as if he were the one responsible.

Ashtyn nodded, then kissed his cheek. “Be careful. And bring her by if you have a minute, I would love to meet her.”

He nodded, though he had no intentions of bringing Lorie to Ashtyn's house. He would never hear the end of it from his only sibling.

Zach palmed his keys and headed out the door.

 

 

Lorie moved farther onto the side of the road when she heard the sound of a horse and buggy coming up behind her.

She had gotten her clothes from their hiding place in their barn, then stopped at the phone shanty only long enough to call Zach. She had left the house without saying good-bye to any of her siblings. She couldn't. Especially not Daniel. She didn't want to have to explain why she was leaving. Or how their mother had made her choose between the two separate parts of her life. It was better to just leave. Or at least that's what she kept telling herself.

Her tears had dried up, no longer did they fall so freely. Zach's vow to wait for her was like a bandage to her heart. The last person she had met in her life was the one willing to stand by her side. She wasn't walking away from her family. She was walking toward him.

“Lorie!” Sadie called over the rattle of the rig. “Where are you going?”

She shook her head and kept walking. There was no explanation that wouldn't bring them all more pain.

But Sadie was persistent. She pulled the buggy ahead of her and stopped in the road, blocking Lorie's path. She hopped down and rushed toward her. “What is going on?
Mamm
won't talk, but is slamming around the house. All she would say was that you were gone. What does that mean, gone?”

“I'm leaving.” She moved to go around her sister, but Sadie was fast and sidestepped in front of her once again.

“Does this have anything to do with you missing church?”

“Don't get involved, Sadie. Just let it go.”

“I am involved, and I can't let it go. You're my sister. And I love you.”

Lorie stumbled, her stiff disposition crumbling a bit before she pulled herself back together. She moved around Sadie, and this time her sister let her go.

“Where are you going?” Sadie called after her. Footsteps sounded behind her as Sadie followed.

“I told Zach I would meet him at the restaurant.”

“Zach?” Sadie got ahead of her once again, stopping and blocking her path. “The
Englisch bu?
”

“Yes.”

Sadie's expression dissolved into pure hurt. “You said you weren't seeing him any longer. You promised.”

“I lied.” Her words were stiff and callous, and she hated them. But at least they were the truth. She had been lying to herself and her family for so long, at least now she was telling the truth.

Sadie grabbed both of her arms and stopped her in her tracks. “I don't understand, and I'm not going to pretend I do. But above everything else, you are my sister. Get in the buggy, and I'll take you into town.”

Lorie wanted to protest, keep marching down the road, but she was hot and tired. Her tears had drained a lot of her energy. She wanted nothing more than to sit down on the roadside and talk to her sister. Just talk before she had to leave and never see her again.
Mamm
had been clear about that. It was all or nothing. Lorie could live by neither.

But her pride kept her going.

“Please, Lorie.”

She stopped. What harm would there be in riding into town with her sister? What foul in enjoying her company one more time? “Okay.”

Sadie wilted in relief, then led her back to the buggy.

In silence, they climbed on board and started for the restaurant.

“You could change your mind, you know,” Sadie said a few minutes later when they pulled in front of the restaurant. Like many of the businesses in town it was closed on Sundays, preferring to uphold their religious beliefs and not bow to the demands of the tourist trade.

Lorie shook her head. “I can't.” Too many hurtful words had been said. Too many secrets had been kept. How could she pretend now that she didn't know they existed? Was this what Caroline and Emily had warned her about? Could all of this heartache been avoided?