Rising Darkness (8 page)

I forced myself to read until I grew tired and turned off the light. It took a long time to drift off to sleep because that voice just wouldn't be stilled.

After a restless night, I finally rolled out of bed around six in the morning. I got dressed and made a visit to the bathroom. Figuring Esther wouldn't be up yet, I was surprised to hear sounds coming from the first floor. When I went downstairs, I found her in the kitchen.

“Well, good morning, honey,” she said when she saw me. “I figured you would sleep in today.”

I shook my head. “That would have been nice, but I'm afraid my body wasn't in agreement.”

She laughed and motioned toward the kitchen table. “I understand that all too well. The older I get, the more my body bosses me around.”

She poured a cup of coffee from the enamel percolator on the stove. “I will start breakfast in a minute, but if you are like me, coffee comes first.”

I grinned at her. “We're very much alike. Thank you.”

She handed me the cup, and I took a sip, hoping the caffeine
would chase away the weariness that seemed to fill my mind and body this morning.

Esther poured herself a cup and then sat down at the table next to me. “When you arrived here, you told me why you were in Sanctuary, but I still do not know much about you, Emily. I would like to know you better.”

As I gazed into the elderly woman's eyes, the idea of telling her more lies made me feel sick to my stomach. Maybe I could wrap my lies in a little truth. “I was born and raised in Kansas,” I said. “I don't have any brothers or sisters.” I shrugged. “I told you how I found out about Miriam.”

Esther reached over and touched my hand. “But tell me about
you.
What do you do? What do you like? What do you want to do in life?”

I told her the lie about working for an accounting firm. And that I wanted to own my own firm someday.

She frowned at me. “You do not seem to be the type of person who would be happy with a job like that.”

I almost spit out my coffee. Jonathon had said the same thing. What was it these people thought they saw in me that made them think I couldn't be an accountant? Suddenly, I wished I'd come up with some other story.

“I—I guess it's a job.”

She nodded. “Yes, it is a job, and there is nothing wrong with it. But isn't there something else you really want to do, Emily? Besides accounting, I mean? You are so smart and personable. I believe you could be successful at anything you put your mind to.”

Without warning, my eyes filled with tears. I tried to quickly blink them away, but I wasn't fast enough.

“Oh, my dear girl.” Compassion filled Esther's face. “Surely others in your life have told you the same thing.”

I took a napkin from the wooden holder on the table and wiped my face. “No,” I said softly. “I'm afraid there aren't many people who see me in a positive light. And rightly so. I've made many, many mistakes.”

Esther stared at me for a moment and then looked away. When she spoke again, her voice was so quiet, I could barely hear her. “Everyone makes mistakes, dear. My husband and I raised our children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. But after he died and I was all they had, they turned their backs on God. And me. Somehow I failed them. I have seen Rebecca and my grandchildren twice since she moved away. And I haven't seen my son in years.” When she looked back at me, she had tears in her own eyes. “I used to go over and over in my mind all the things I said and did that were wrong. The times I was too busy for them. The times I was too short with them. If I could go back and do it over, be a better mother, I would. But I cannot fix the past. And neither can you. If God does not hold our mistakes against us, then we should not do it either. It is time you let go of the past, Emily. Give it to God. His shoulders are much larger than yours.”

I felt a rush of anger rise up inside me. “God doesn't care about me, Esther. I used to pray and pray, asking Him for help. Things just got worse. I'm on my own now, and I like it that way.”

As soon as I let those words out of my mouth, I knew they were wrong. I needed a place to stay in Sanctuary, and now I'd ruined my chances of remaining in this house. I should have just agreed with her.

To my surprise, Esther didn't look angry. Instead, she got up and came over to me. When she wrapped her arms around me, I couldn't hold back the tears of grief and hurt that poured out. I fought to restrain my unruly emotions, but it took everything I had to finally stop crying. Throughout it all, Esther held me, something I wasn't used to. Finally, once I'd grown quiet, she squeezed me and let me go. Then she went back to her chair and turned it toward me, taking both of my hands in hers.

“I know this may not make sense to you now, Emily, but God has answered your prayers. He brought you here. To Sanctuary. To me. You are here for a reason. He has always been with you, and by the time you leave this town, you will know that, too.”

I seriously doubted that would happen, but Esther's expression of concern meant more than I could say. I'd been shown very little compassion in my life. But as soon as that thought came into my head, I realized it wasn't true. There had been many kind people in Kingdom. Jonathon and Lizzie. The pastor of our church. And a few other women in Kingdom, like Hope Kauffman. She was probably Hope Miller by now. I was certain they no longer cared much about me. In fact, they probably hated me. Everyone except Lizzie, that is. I'd told her the truth about the terrible thing I'd done, and she'd helped me anyway. I could still remember her words.
“God is in the business of giving second chances, Sophie
. Even third and fourth chances. His mercy is endless. Just
don't give up. He has a great plan for
your life, and He'll never leave you.”
She'd given me enough money to get out of town and start a new life. I would be indebted to her forever.

“Thank you, Esther,” I said. “You're very kind. I appreciate it. I'm sorry about what I said. I hope it didn't upset you.”

“No, honey. It didn't upset me. God can handle your feelings and your hurt.” She gently squeezed my shoulder. “He has heard worse, I am certain. But I will tell you this.” She looked into my eyes, and I could swear she was peering into my soul. “God definitely led you here. You watch for His footprints.”

I nodded dumbly. What was she talking about? Why did everyone seem to think God had a plan for my life? God clearly didn't care about me. And footprints? So far, the only footprints I could see were the ones He left when He walked away.

“Now, let us get some food in our stomachs.” Esther moved her chair back to its previous position. “Then we can spend some time talking about your grandmother.”

“That sounds great.” But it didn't. I wasn't sure what to ask her about a woman I didn't really know. I'd wanted to get back to the church and go through the records today, yet I couldn't ignore Esther again. I decided to go to the church in the afternoon.

After turning down my offer to help her, Esther sent me to the living room, where I sat down and sipped my coffee while I waited. Eventually, I carried my cup out to the front porch and took my place in the rocking chair again. It was such a quiet, peaceful morning. I watched as Janet Dowell came out of her house. When she saw me, she started walking my way.

“Good morning, Emily,” she called when she reached the porch. “How are you?”

“Just fine. Enjoying a cup of Esther's delicious coffee.”

She laughed. “She certainly does make good coffee. In fact, everything she makes is great. She's a wonderful cook.”

I patted my stomach. “I've discovered that. It's going to take a lot of time in the gym to work off her cooking, I'm afraid.”

Her blue eyes twinkled. “I totally understand. Well, I just wanted to say hi, but I'd better get going. I'm running a little late for work today.”

“Can I ask what you do?” Trying to categorize Sanctuary's residents might help me find Chase. I intended to question everyone I could.

“Sure. I run the veterinary clinic. Ever since our last vet went . . . away.”

I remembered the story about the TV reporter who came here to find her brother. If my memory was right, the town's veterinarian had tried to kill her.

“Sounds like a wonderful job,” I said. “I love animals.”

She grinned. “Me too. Some days more than others. Well, I'm off. Nice to see you again.”

“You too.”

She walked back toward her house, got into her car, and drove down the street.

A few minutes later, a lovely red-haired woman came out of the house with a young girl who looked very similar to her. They walked down the porch steps and headed toward town. I watched them until I couldn't see them anymore, then I went back into the house. Esther was just coming into the living room as I walked through the door.

“Breakfast is ready,” she said.

“You really didn't need to make me anything. I usually don't even eat breakfast.”

Esther shook her head. “You young people. Don't you realize that breakfast gives you energy for the rest of the day?”

“I guess we don't. I'm usually up and on my way to work early in the morning. There's just not time.”

“Well, while you are here, you will eat breakfast. That way, I know you have enough fuel to keep you going.”

I laughed. “Yes, ma'am.”

I followed her into the dining room, where I saw she'd loaded my plate with bacon, scrambled eggs, and fried potatoes. A smaller plate of toast sat next to it.

“Oh, Esther. I just don't think I can eat this much. If I do, I won't be able to fit into my clothes.”

She pointed to the vacant chair in front of the huge plate of food. “You sit down and do your best. If you cannot eat it all, I will not complain.”

“I'll certainly do what I can. It all looks delicious.”

When we were both seated, Esther asked if it was all right for her to say a prayer. I nodded but kept my eyes open as the small elderly woman spoke to her God.

“Lord, I thank You so much for sending Emily here. It is such a blessing to me. Help her to see herself as You do, dearest God. Thank You for providing this food and blessing it to our bodies. In Jesus' precious name, amen.”

Esther was sincere in her faith, I could see that. Yet her husband was dead, and her children had deserted her. Still, here she was, thanking God. I couldn't understand it. She was obviously living in denial. But that was her business, not mine.

I reached for the coffeepot, which was sitting on a hot pad, and poured another cup of coffee. I wasn't looking forward to spending the next couple of hours hearing more about
some woman I didn't know—and never would. Maybe I could work in some questions about newer residents. Men who'd moved here after 2008.

But that plan quickly died.

“Now, honey,” Esther said, looking straight at me, “I would like you to tell me the real reason you've come to Sanctuary.”

I stared back at her for several seconds, not sure I'd heard her right. Finally, I said, “I'm sorry. I don't understand . . .”

Esther smiled. “Honey, I knew Miriam really well. I also know that her sister Clara could not bear children.” She held up one hand. “And before you try to argue with me about this, I must tell you that, due to a medical condition, Clara had a hysterectomy when she was still very young. She could not possibly be your grandmother.”

I tried to think of an excuse to keep my story intact, but nothing came to mind. “Why didn't you say something earlier?” I asked finally. “You let me come into your house and listened to me, even though you knew I was lying. And you've been so nice.”

“That is an easy question to answer. I like you. And as I told you, I believe God sent you here.” She smiled. “Before you panic and run away, you need to know that I have no intention of telling anyone that you are here under . . . false pretenses.”

I peered at her through narrowed eyes. “And why is that? If you know I've been deceitful, why don't you tell me to clear out?”

“I will not thwart God's plan. Besides, I believe you have a good heart, even though you also have a lot of pain inside. I do not believe you are here to hurt anyone.”

“I'm not,” I responded quickly. “Except maybe for a very bad man. A man who killed two innocent people.”

Esther took a quick breath. “Sanctuary is a place where some people have come looking for refuge from the past. We respect their privacy. But we do not want our town to be a hiding place for people who have done such terrible evil.”

“Wasn't it just a couple of years ago when you were overrun by the media? Had to do with a boy being kidnapped?”

She nodded. “Our peace was shattered for a while. Some people even left town for a while. But people in the world have short memories. When the story disappeared, so did the news people. We are safe once again.” She paused for a moment and appeared to study me. “Now, while we eat, I want you to tell me the truth. All of it.”

“I don't know . . .”

“My silence is given only on the condition that you do not lie to me again.” She picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite.

I waited while she chewed and swallowed, my mind racing as I tried to think of how best to handle the situation. In the end, I decided to come clean. With most of it, anyway. There were some things I had to keep to myself. No one could know about Kingdom—or about Jonathon.

“What do you want to know?” I asked slowly.

Esther fastened her blue eyes on mine. “First of all, who are you really?”

“My name is Sophie Bauer. I work for the
St. Louis Times
. I'm looking for a man named Terrance Chase. In 2008, he and another man robbed an armored car company, killing two guards. They got away. The rumors are that both men are dead, but I don't believe that. I think Terrance Chase changed his name and identity and came here. I'm not sure he's still here, but if he is, I want to find him. Not just for my story, but mainly because he should be brought to justice for what he did.” I met her intense gaze. “And if you tell anyone what I just told you, he might get away . . . again. Those guards had families. Children. I know that as a Mennonite you don't believe in retribution, but you do believe in justice. That's all I'm looking for.” Of course, that wasn't really true. For me, the story was first, justice was second. But Esther didn't need to know that.

The elderly woman didn't say anything for several seconds. Finally, she pointed at my plate. “Eat your food before it gets cold. I will keep your secret. For now. But if I find out that you have lied to me—or if I feel you are doing something to hurt this town or anyone in it, I will have no choice but to seek help.”

“I understand, but I promise you, my story won't hurt Sanctuary.”

“Unfortunately, that may not be in your power. If this man—this Terrance Chase—is found here, what will happen to us?”

“I—I can't answer that question, Esther. But we can't allow
him to get away with what he did, can we? Isn't finding him more important than protecting Sanctuary's anonymity?”

She didn't answer. It was obvious she was really worried.

“All I can do is promise you I'll try to keep Sanctuary out of the story.” Of course, there was no way to really do that. A twinge of conscience made me feel uncomfortable, but I couldn't afford to be swayed. I had to do this. It was my only chance at the life I wanted. The life I
needed
.

“You must try, Emily,” Esther pleaded. “This town is very special. To all of us.”

“I understand. Just remember, he may not even be here. Or if he was ever in Sanctuary, he may have already left by now. Worrying about this before I find out the truth is a waste of time. That's the real reason I'm going through the town's books in the church basement. I'm tracking all the men who arrived after the robbery. Chase may be one of them. If that turns out to be the case and he's already gone, I'll leave and look for him somewhere else.”

Esther sighed. “I believe we should finish eating our breakfast, Emily. Then you must go forward with your search, but I would appreciate it if you would keep me updated on your efforts. Maybe I can help you. If you share the names you find, I can tell you about them. I'm old and have lived here a long time.”

“That would be incredibly helpful. Thank you.” I hesitated a moment. “You're still calling me Emily. May I ask why?”

Esther chuckled. “Again, I am an old woman. If I am not careful, I could blurt out your real name. If I continue to see you as Emily, the chances of this happening are lessened. Besides, if I see you as
my
Emily, it will help me. I trust her, and I want to trust you.”

But you can't trust me.
The truth struck some part of me. A softer part that still existed inside the hard shell I'd wrapped around my heart.

“The funny thing is, my Emily has another name, too. She came here under false pretenses. Like you.”

“Where is this . . . Emily?”

“She lives on a farm outside of town with her husband, Reuben. She usually comes by two or three times a week. You'll meet her. She used to work for a television station. She goes by the name Wynter. Such a pretty name, but I still call her Emily.”

A small alarm sounded in my mind. This must be the reporter who found her kidnapped brother in Sanctuary. “You can't tell her the truth about me, Esther. Okay?”

The old woman nodded. “I understand. I will not tell her. As long as you keep our bargain.” She offered me a small smile. “I still believe you are here for reasons you do not yet understand, Emily. You think you are searching for this Terrance Chase person, but in the end, you will find something much more important.”

Her constant insistence that there was some kind of larger plan was starting to get on my nerves. But Esther had a good heart, and I didn't want to hurt her. I just smiled and kept my mouth shut.

It took me a few minutes to eat most of the food on my plate. By now it was barely warm, but I didn't care. I needed to get to the church and do more research. I thanked Esther for the breakfast, carried my dishes into the kitchen, and rinsed them. Then, after grabbing my purse and my jacket, I left.

As I got into my car and started it, my affirmations CD
began to play. For some reason it irritated me, and I clicked it off. I was focused on finding Chase, and I wasn't in the mood for reciting the same old words over and over. I wasn't calm and relaxed and was failing miserably at controlling my thoughts.

“But I am in charge of my life,” I said out loud. “No one is going to make me do anything I don't want to do. No one.” For some reason, my words sounded hollow.

By the time I got to the church, my irritation had turned into anger. I parked in front of the building, turned off the engine, and tried to figure out why I was upset. Was it that Esther had seen through me? That I'd lost the upper hand? Did I feel I was at her mercy now?

I checked my makeup in the rearview mirror. “No one tells me what to do,” I said to my image. “I'm in control. I'm in control.” But if that were true, why did I feel so out of control this morning?

Trying to quiet the emotions raging inside, I got out of the car and headed into the building. I found Pastor Troyer in his office. After telling him I was going downstairs again, I quickly made my way to the dark, dank basement. I went over to the old, beat-up desk and turned on the lamp. Once again, I started removing books, searching for single men who might be Terrance Chase. When one of them left town, I wrote that on another page. I'd compare the records later. I worked through lunch and into the afternoon. I was up to 2010 when the door to the room swung open and Dorcas Troyer came in.

“I am sorry to interrupt, but I was worried about you. I brought you something to eat and drink.”

I quickly closed the book I was working on and put my notebook on top of it so she wouldn't notice the year on the front. Since she'd mentioned that Miriam and Clara's family might have been among the town's earliest settlers, looking through the 2010 book wouldn't make much sense.

“Thank you, but you didn't need to do that.”

As she came out of the shadows and into the circle of light offered by the lamp, I noticed she had a tray in her hands. “I hope you like chicken salad,” she said. “And I thought you might like a bottle of root beer.”

Although I hadn't thought about eating until that moment, I realized I was actually very hungry, which was strange because of the large breakfast I'd had at Esther's. “That's very kind of you.”

“I work down here a lot,” she said with a smile. “There is something about this room that makes me feel . . . so alone. As if there is no one else in the world.”

“I know what you mean. It's a little . . . creepy down here.”

“Creepy. Yes. The perfect word.” She put the tray down on the edge of the desk. “Do not worry about bringing this back upstairs. Just leave it here, and I will get it later.”

I thanked her again as she turned to leave. She might have my mother's name, but she certainly didn't act like my mother. She was kind and gentle. She disappeared into the shadows, and I pulled the tray closer. After taking a few bites of Dorcas's delicious sandwich, I went back to the book I'd been looking at before she came in. Page after page, person after person. I began to see patterns. People who moved here. People who died here. Children who left, and children who came back. For the most part, residents
stayed in Sanctuary. I stopped a few times to eat and eventually finished my lunch.

I made it halfway through 2011 and suddenly felt tired. I checked my watch. Four-thirty. Time to go. I didn't want Pastor Troyer to wait for me, so I packed up everything, turned off the desk light, and headed for the door.

When I got upstairs, I knocked on Pastor Troyer's door to tell him I was headed out. I heard him call out, “Come in,” so I opened the door. I was shocked to see Jonathon sitting in a chair in front of the pastor's desk.

“I—I'm sorry,” I said. “I didn't mean to interrupt.”

Pastor Troyer waved at me. “You are not interrupting. I am afraid my friend and I have moved from spiritual things to debating the best place to fish. You have saved me from losing the argument.”

Jonathon shook his head vigorously. “There's only one way to settle this. Next time we go out, we'll fish your spot, but after that, we'll go to mine. If we catch more fish in my spot, you have to provide bait for the next three trips. If you win, I'll bring the bait.”

Pastor Troyer rubbed his beard several times while his eyes twinkled with humor. “I will take that challenge. But you must bring something besides those old, tired worms you tried to pass off as bait last summer.”

Jonathon's expression was comical as he looked over at me. “I'm wounded. How can a man who calls himself a pastor accuse me of such a terrible thing?”

I managed a weak smile. “I have no idea.” Wanting to get away as quickly as possible, I mumbled something to Pastor Troyer about being finished downstairs, and without wait
ing for a response, I closed the door and practically sprinted out of the church. Why did I keep running into Jonathon? Though I doubted he would ever figure out who I was, every time I was near him, it felt as if that dirty ragamuffin I had once been was trying to break out. I dreaded being seen as that person even more than I feared losing my chance of locating Terrance Chase.

I was almost to my car when I heard someone call my name. I turned around to see Jonathon bounding down the stairs of the church, headed right for me.

“Going to a fire?” he called out.

I shook my head as I put one hand on the car door. “Sorry. I didn't want to intrude.”