The Fiddler (21 page)

Amelia froze, wanting to call to Michael, but thankfully he was already getting out of the car. “Elizabeth?” she said, the name catching in her throat.

“I have to go in.” Elizabeth looked pale suddenly.

Michael rushed to Amelia’s side. “You don’t have to, Lizzie.”

Elizabeth looked again at the angry man, then back at Michael and Amelia. “I, uh—”

“It’s all right, honey,” Amelia heard herself saying, unsure where her courage was coming from. “You really don’t have to listen to him.” She held out her hand. “Make your own decision.”

Elizabeth took a step backward, toward Amelia. “I have nothin’ to wear ’cept what I have on . . . if I come with you.” Her words were a near whisper.

“We’ll go clothes shopping at the outlet mall—I’ll get you some cute things.”

Elizabeth blinked back tears. “You’d do that . . . for me?”

The man shouted at her again, the door still open. “Don’t let them put ideas in your head, now, honey. You say good-bye now and come on back in here.”

“Lizzie,” Michael said, his voice breaking. “You’re safe with us.”

Amelia inched closer. Her heart pounded, her hand still outstretched toward the girl.
O Lord, help us!

The man moved forward, and then Elizabeth reached for her, clasping her hand. She followed Amelia as they hurried across the walkway, toward the car. Michael ran back around to the driver’s side and jumped inside, immediately starting the car. Quickly, they sped away.

W
ith the city in the distance at last, Elizabeth ceased her crying. The headrest blocked Amelia’s ability to see, but she could tell Elizabeth was fidgeting and restless.

Amelia’s own stomach was still in knots. She kept reliving the threatening encounter. What could a nineteen-year-old girl see in such a man?

Michael was driving more cautiously now on the return trip, staying in the right lane and not passing. He had to be nervous about Elizabeth’s accident last night . . . and shaken by what had transpired with the man at the apartment building.

Michael turned on the radio softly, possibly to provide a calming atmosphere.
Such an afternoon!
Most important, Elizabeth had made the decision to come with them. She was, however, presently voicing her concerns again about “staying put” in Hickory Hollow. Amelia couldn’t help but hear what she was telling Michael.

“It might be wise to stay at my parents’ house tonight,” Michael suggested.

“Dawdi Paul’s goin’ to have my hide—I just know it.”

“You might be surprised at how glad he’ll be to see ya—and Mammi Lillianne, too.”

“But what’ll the ministerial brethren say?” Elizabeth’s voice sounded thin. “Will they make me repent?”

“Not when you aren’t baptized.”

“Well, you don’t know Dat.”

Michael chuckled softly. “Oh, I know my brother, all right. He’s worried sick.”

She looked at him. “He’ll whoop me but
gut
.”

“No, Elizabeth.”

She bowed her head. “You don’t know the half of what I’ve done.”

Michael exchanged glances with Amelia in the rearview mirror.

“I’m awful scared, Uncle Michael.”

He offered a reassuring smile. “Trust me, everyone will be thrilled to see ya back.”

She turned and gave Amelia the saddest look; then she was quiet for a time. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. “How long are you stayin’ in Amish country, Amelia?”

“Probably another day.”

“She just arrived in the Hollow yesterday morning,” Michael cut in. “Amelia blew into the area with the storm on Thursday night,” he said, looking at her again in the rearview mirror. “Want to tell Lizzie what you do, Amelia?”

“Sure,” she said, leaning forward. Amelia felt odd, given the circumstances, and she certainly didn’t want to boast or make it seem that her career was more special than any other type of work. “I travel around the country playing violin with various orchestras. And sometimes I play in fiddle fests, too.”

“No kiddin’?” Elizabeth said, her eyes suddenly bright. “What sort of music?”

“All kinds, but mostly classical and country.”

“Country?” Elizabeth seemed thrilled. “God, family, and country, right?”

Michael nodded, glancing back at Amelia. Did he want her to give Elizabeth the whole spiel? She frowned, asking the question with her eyes until he nodded back. Swiftly, she filled Elizabeth in on her recent concert with the Bittersweet Band, as well as a little about her work as a concert violinist. She left off the part about stalling for time in regard to the European tour.
I, too, am a runaway.

“Is it hard to learn to play the violin?” Elizabeth asked.

“Well, I practice a lot.”

“How much?”

“Many hours a day,” Amelia said.

Elizabeth pulled her hair back into a ponytail with her left hand and held it there. “I must look a mess, ain’t so?”

Amelia wondered if she’d want to try to wash up somewhere before arriving home. “You know what? I’d like to stop off at McDonald’s or some other fast-food place and freshen up myself. Maybe get something to eat. Are you hungry?”

“I’m starvin’—and I need to wash my face in the ladies’ room.”

“Sure,” Amelia said.

Michael’s face beamed back at her from the mirror.

“But remember,” Elizabeth said, looking now at Michael, “I’m only goin’ for a short visit.” She sounded like she was trying on her confidence once again.

“Yes, you’ve told me,” said Michael. Then he gave her a serious glance. “How’s your arm feeling?”

Elizabeth sighed. “S’pose it’s time for some more pain meds,” she said, unzipping her canvas bag. “It still hurts a lot. Fortunately the hospital sent me home with some.”

“Do you have your wallet?” asked Michael.

“Oh jah . . . everything I need’s right in here.” Elizabeth patted the canvas bag on her lap. “Even the key to the little café where I’m a waitress.”

“You got the kitchen sink in there, too?” Michael teased.

“Like I said . . . everything important to me.” Elizabeth gave Michael a smirk.

If she has her wallet, she doesn’t have to go back.
Amelia felt an enormous weight lifting.

While he waited for the girls, Michael ordered a round of burgers with fries and milkshakes for the three of them. He was still in awe of Amelia. There was no question in his mind that Elizabeth would have remained at the apartment if Amelia hadn’t come along. He had observed the entire exchange between them, listening through the open window as they sat on the step, amazed at how quickly Amelia had turned things around.

When Elizabeth and Amelia emerged from the restroom and came to sit with him, he noticed a big improvement in his niece’s appearance, although the cuts and bruises on her face would still be met with concern on the part of Mamm, he was sure. The mascara smudges and eyeshadow were gone, though, giving his niece a younger, more innocent look.

“You feel better?” he asked as he handed the packaged burgers and ketchup packets around.

“Jah, much better.”

Elizabeth started to eat without bowing her head, which startled Michael. “Wait a minute, Lizzie. Let’s pray first, okay?”

Elizabeth gave him an
oops
smile. “Oh jah. I forgot.”

Michael bowed his head and offered a brief table blessing. Afterward Amelia glanced his way, her eyes gentle but pleading:
Take it slow
, she seemed to say.

He nodded back.
Message received.

Amelia was encouraged by the gracious welcome Michael’s mother gave her granddaughter. Lillianne wrapped her arms around Elizabeth and held her near, talking softly in Deitsch—things Amelia did not understand, although by the endearing looks exchanged, they were definitely affectionate words. Elizabeth said little but soaked up the attention from her grandmother, who clucked over her injuries and then gently took her free hand and led her to the kitchen table, sat her down, and brought over a plate of cold cuts and crackers, and a two-layer chocolate cake. “
Fresse,
now . . . eat
gut,
dear girl!”

When Paul came in the back door, looking tired from the day, his eyes lit up when he saw Elizabeth sitting there with Lillianne, Michael, and Amelia. “Well, what’s this—a party?” He removed his straw hat and placed it on a wooden peg high on the wall. “Nobody told me ’bout this!”

Amelia noticed the quiver in his chin as he limped over to his granddaughter, kissed the top of her head, and put both hands on her shoulders. “Mighty
gut
havin’ ya home.” The light in his eyes went out as he took in the bruises and the bandage . . . and her broken arm. “What on earth happened to ya, Lizzie?”

Elizabeth shrugged and looked away.

“Give her some time,” Lillianne urged softly, reaching to touch Elizabeth’s good arm.

Amelia held her breath and wondered if Elizabeth would say she was merely visiting. But Elizabeth was quiet as Paul sat at the head of the table and folded his arms across his chest.

“The Lord God brought ya back to us,” Paul said, his beard bobbing as he nodded his head. “Many prayers have gone up for ya, Lizzie. Many-a prayer from this here old man, I’ll say.”

Elizabeth and her grandfather did the nibbling while Lillianne continued to fuss over her “one and only
Grossdochder
!”

There was a knock at the door and they all turned to look. An Amishwoman peeked in, and Elizabeth squealed when she saw her.

“Annie Fisher Lapp!” Elizabeth got off the bench and hurried across the kitchen, pushing the screen door open and giving her a one-armed hug on the porch.

“What a surprise to find you here, Lizzie! Elam will be glad to hear it,” said Annie.

The rest of them watched as the two women stood outside jabbering.

“Mighty nice to see Lizzie again,” Paul said again.

“I doubt she’s back for
gut
,” Michael said quickly.

“Oh now, Michael, we’ll see ’bout that,” Lillianne scolded.

Michael added that Amelia had been key in convincing Lizzie to come home. “I would’ve returned empty-handed, for certain.”

His mother blinked repeatedly as she looked across the table at Amelia. “Ya know, you could almost pass for Elizabeth’s twin,” she said, smiling through tears.

“That she could,” Paul agreed. He pulled on his beard and looked over his shoulder toward the back door.

Michael smiled broadly, and his eyes twinkled at Amelia.

“Where did ya say you’re from?” asked Lillianne.

“Columbus, Ohio,” Amelia said, wishing Michael hadn’t made so much of her efforts with Elizabeth. It was enough that in one small way she had made a difference in young Elizabeth’s life.

Even so, Amelia realized that, without a change of heart, the Hostetlers’ granddaughter might end up right back where she and Michael had found her.