The Deception (Lindy's Story Book 2)

by Brenda Maxfield

  He jerked back. “Uh, gut-night, Lindy.” He turned quickly to walk away, then stopped only long enough to say, “Sleep well.”

  * * *

  Lindy watched Robert’s shadow disappear from the kitchen. She heard him go to the front room, pause for a moment, and then she heard his footsteps on the stairs. He was looking in on Berta before going up to his room. But why in the world had he left so abruptly? Odd.

  She walked slowly back to the front room, listening all the while for any noises from upstairs. She heard nothing. In the front room, she heard Berta’s soft breaths, like whispered puffs of mist. Gratified that she seemed to be sleeping with ease, Lindy shed her robe and lowered herself to the mattress on the floor. It was surprisingly comfortable. She drew the quilt up to her chin and stared into the darkness.

  She wondered how Robert’s and Rachel’s evening had really gone. She imagined that they had a great time together, catching up on the last days. Of course, Rachel thought Robert had been in Ohio. Had he told her the truth, or had he lied about it? For some reason, Lindy didn’t think Robert had told Rachel what had really transpired. Lindy gave a low rueful chuckle. If he had, Rachel would definitely be coming by the next morning. She’d want to know every single detail—particularly if Lindy and “Reuben” had maintained their courtship during “Reuben’s” stay.

  Lindy shook her head. It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t funny at all. So, she had no idea why she kept giggling softly.

  She must be losing her mind.

  Chapter Eleven

  Reuben stood in his apartment, facing Ariel. “I can’t miss the bus,” he told her. “I simply can’t. You have to go, Ariel.”

  “But I don’t want you to leave. What if you don’t come back?”

  “I’ll come back,” he said with a sigh. “Now, I’m leaving. You can leave now or stick around if you want, but I’m leaving.”

  “Five more minutes?”

  “What difference will five minutes make?” he asked impatiently.

  Ariel sidled up to him. “Oh, I don’t know. We could make good use of five minutes. We have before.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Ariel, please. I’m going home. My mamm… I mean, my mother is sick. I can hardly think of anything else.”

  “Oh, can’t you?” she asked, reaching up to twist her fingers into his hair. She pressed her body against his and kissed his chest through his shirt. “Five measly little minutes?” she purred.

  He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, steeling himself against her. But when she began kissing his neck and wiggling against him, it was too much to bear. He leaned down and pressed his mouth on hers. She gave a moan of satisfaction as her lips explored his.

  And then, he jolted back. “Ach, Ariel! I have to go.”

  She smoothed her tousled hair and smiled at him. “Do you?”

  “Yes, I do.” He grabbed his bag and marched toward the door. “Come on.”

  Ariel pouted all the way to the bus stop.

  Rueben was losing his patience with her. It suddenly seemed of the utmost importance to get back to Hollybrook. He looked nervously down the street, hoping he hadn’t missed the latest bus. He had to take it to the main bus station that would take him to Indiana. If he missed that one, it would delay him for quite a while.

  “You promise?” Ariel interrupted his thoughts.

  “Promise what?”

  “That you’ll come back.”

  “Ariel, what’s with you today? I already told you I would.”

  “But you’re Amish. You’ll probably go back there, and they’ll get their claws into you and not let you go.” Her eyes were filled with tears as she spoke.

  “It’s not some kind of cult,” he said. “It’s not like you’re a prisoner or something.”

  She looked flustered. “I… That’s not what I meant.”

  “Look. I don’t want to talk about it.” He glanced again down the street. “Do you think I’ve missed the bus?”

  She pulled out her cell and looked at the time. “No. I think you have another few minutes.”

  “Okay.” He took a deep breath and tried to relax. He sank onto the metal bench under the bus stop’s overhang. Ariel sat next to him.

  “Will you text me?”

  “Of course.” He shifted on the bench. “I, well, I don’t know about recharging my phone. I’ll try to keep it charged, but if I go silent, it will be because I couldn’t find electricity.”

  “Couldn’t find electricity?” She gazed at him. “Who says such a thing? It’s everywhere.”

  He sighed. “I can go to the public library.”

  “Thank you.”

  “If I can get away.”

  “What do you mean, if you can get away. You just said you’re not a prisoner.”

  He studied her face. “Are you doing your best to be annoying?”

  She pursed her lips.

  “Because you’re doing a good job of it.”

  “Sorry,” she said, her expression melting. “I just don’t want you to go.”

  “It’s not for that long. Myrtle only gave me two days.”

  “Right,” Ariel said, smiling now. “That’s right. Two days is nothing.”

  “Nothing…” he muttered, his mind flipping again to his mother. Was she really as close to death as both Robert and Lindy indicated? Or were they being a bit melodramatic, just trying to get him to come home. In truth, there was only one way to know for sure, and he was doing it. Going home to see for himself.

  He wasn’t ready to be back in Hollybrook, but he was ready to see his mother. From down the street came the grinding noise of the bus’s brakes.

  “It’s here,” Ariel said unnecessarily.

  “Jah, it’s here,” Rueben answered, hearing himself slip back into his native tongue.

  Ariel gave him a sharp look. “It’s happening. You’re becoming Amish again.”

  “Please, don’t,” Rueben told her. “Just kiss me gut-bye, smile, and wave.”

  She did smile then, warmly. He smiled back and gave her a quick hug. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

  “Hurry home,” she whispered in his ear.

  Home. He sucked in a long breath and smiled again. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Yes.”

  The bus had squealed to a stop and the whoosh of its door opening filled the air.

  “Gut-bye, Ariel.”

  “Bye.” She waved and stepped back.

  He got on the bus, intentionally sitting on the opposite side from where she stood. Enough good-byes for the day. His mind was now consumed with Hollybrook, his mother, his twin brother, and Lindy.

  Lindy. Lindy. He didn’t want to think of her. She was angry with him. Or disappointed. Likely both. She probably wouldn’t even speak to him. No, of course she would. She was that kind of person—nice. Whereas, no one could accuse him of being nice lately, that was for sure and for certain.

  He leaned back in his seat, feeling the cool vinyl on the back of his head. He needed to take this bus to the central bus station and then buy a ticket to Indiana. He’d checked the schedules online, and he should easily make the 11:30 bus. He hadn’t told his brother exactly when he’d arrive, so there would be no one waiting for him. No matter. He could summon a car with the app on his phone. Easy.

  He kicked his bag under the seat in front of him and then realized he was wearing his jeans. Ach, he should have changed into his Amish clothes. Well, he could do that at the central bus station. Besides, if he’d worn his Amish clothes with Ariel, she would have freaked out. Too bad that Robert had taken his favorite blue shirt back already. He could wear his dark green one, he supposed.

  He leaned forward again, nervous. He hoped all would go smoothly. and he’d arrive home with no problems. Two days. He’d stay two days. That wasn’t much. Just enough time to satisfy himself that his mother was doing better than Robert had said. Just enough time to realize he didn’t belong there anymore. At least, not at the present time.

  And Ar
iel would be waiting for him here. And given how much he liked her, that was no small thing.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lindy bit her lower lip, worry coursing through her. “Berta?” she said. This time, she gently nudged the woman’s bony shoulder. There was no response. “Berta?” she said again.

  Berta was still breathing; Lindy could see the small rise of her chest. Why wasn’t she waking up?

  “Berta?” she said more loudly now.

  “What is it?” Robert said from the door. “Why are you waking her up?”

  Lindy turned and gave him a desperate look. “She won’t wake up, Robert!”

  Robert rushed into the room and to her side. “Is she… Is she…?”

  “Nee. She’s breathing. She just won’t wake up.”

  Robert put his calloused hand on Berta’s shoulder and shook it. “Mamm? Mamm!”

  Berta gave a groan, and Robert pulled back his hand.

  “Mamm? Wake up. Are you all right?”

  Lindy leaned closer to Berta’s face. “Berta? It’s Lindy.”

  Berta’s eyes flicked open and then shut.

  “Berta?”

  “I… I hear you,” Berta rasped.

  “Mamm, are you all right?”

  “I’m sorry,” Lindy said. “She hadn’t woken up all night and then this morning, she hardly moved. I was worried. I’m sorry.” Her voice was full of tears.

  “It’s all right, Lindy. You were worried.”

  “I-I was scared…” she admitted, holding in the sobs working their way up her throat. “I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

  Robert straightened and looked at her. “It’s all right, Lindy.”

  Lindy turned to Berta again. “Are you awake, Berta? Can you eat anything?”

  Berta’s eyelids moved, but she didn’t open her eyes. “I-I’m tired…” was all she said.

  Lindy bit her lip again, not wanting to cry.

  Robert patted Berta gently. “It’s okay, Mamm. You sleep. It’s okay.”

  He took Lindy’s hand and pulled her from the room and into the dining area. Lindy couldn’t hold her tears any longer. They slipped softly down her cheeks.

  “I-I’m sorry,” she muttered.

  “Quit apologizing,” he said. “There’s no reason for you to be sorry.”

  “It’s begun, hasn’t it?” she eked out.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, but his face was clouded, and Lindy was sure he knew exactly what she meant.

  “The end…” She sucked in a breath, and only then, realized that Robert was still holding her hand. But she made no move to remove it. Feeling his hard callouses, feeling his rough skin was somehow comforting.

  He licked his lips. “You could be right,” he finally said. And then he let go of her hand and rubbed his face. “I-I had hoped…”

  “Shall I go for Old Mae?” Lindy asked.

  “Jah, I suppose you should. Or I can go.”

  Lindy shook her head. “Nee. You should be with her.”

  “She might last for days like this, Lindy.”

  Lindy looked at the raw hope in his eyes, and her heart broke even further.

  “Jah,” she whispered. “She could last for days.”

  Robert’s eyes filled with tears. “Reuben…” he managed to say. “He’s not… He’s not here. He ain’t coming.”

  She grabbed his arm. “We don’t know that, Robert. He said he’d come. He’ll be here.” She spoke with conviction, but in truth, she doubted every word that left her lips. Why should Reuben come? He hadn’t come so far. Even though they’d told him again and again how serious Berta was. Her heart squeezed. Would he really miss seeing his mother one last time? How could anyone—anyone, let alone the man she thought she’d loved—be so heartless? It was beyond bearing.

  “I-I can hitch up Prince for you.”

  “I can do it, Robert. Go on in with your mamm.”

  He gave her a heart-breaking look and nodded. She turned and fled out to the barn. She’d never hitched a horse up so quickly. It wasn’t but a few minutes before she was out on the road in the pony cart. The warm air caressed her face, and she thought in other circumstances, she would have enjoyed the fine day.

  But not today. No. Not today.

  She snapped the reins, and Prince increased his speed. She prayed Old Mae would be home. When she pulled into Old Mae’s yard, she saw the woman at the side of the house, bending over tending her herb garden.

  “Old Mae!” she cried before she even stopped the cart.

  Old Mae straightened up and looked her way, shading the sun from her eyes with her hand.

  Lindy secured the reins and jumped out of the cart. She hurried to Old Mae’s side.

  “It’s Berta,” she said breathlessly. “She’s bad today, Old Mae. Real bad.”

  Old Mae brushed her hands on her apron. “Is she now?” She grabbed her basket full of herbs from where it sat at her feet. “Come, child. I’ll get my things.”

  Old Mae didn’t hurry, nor did she dawdle. But in Lindy’s state of mind, it seemed like it took forever for her to even get into the house. Lindy was nearly jumping out of her skin as she watched Old Mae select a few squares of cloth and pour different herbal combinations into each one. She then folded them up and tucked them into her waistband.

  She looked at Lindy. “Be calm Lindy. I know you’re worried and anxious.”

  Lindy bit her lower lip.

  “Gott is in control of all things. Nothing will go faster or slower than He intends. Breathe.”

  Lindy took a long deep breath and felt herself settle—if only slightly.

  “I’m ready now. Let’s go.”

  Lindy hurried out of the house before Old Mae and stood, waiting to help her onto the bench. In true Old Mae fashion, her extended hand was ignored, and Old Mae climbed into the cart by herself.

  Ageless, Lindy thought. The woman is truly ageless.

  Lindy jumped into the cart, and they were underway.

  “Now, Lindy, when you say real bad, what do you mean?”

  “She isn’t responding to me. Not like she usually does. She stirred some, when Robert tried to rouse her. But it’s odd. It’s like she doesn’t want to wake up.”

  “Likely, she doesn’t.”

  “But Old Mae…”

  Old Mae raised her hand to stop her speaking, but she didn’t comment for a moment. All Lindy heard was the clip clop of Prince and the whoosh of the cart’s wheels. She waited.

  “Berta is surely going to a better place, child. Don’t you forget that. She’s suffered. Suffered for months now. She’s ready to be finished. You must accept it.”

  Lindy was shaking her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “You’ll miss her, for sure and for certain.” Old Mae put her large, wrinkled hand on Lindy’s knee. “She’s loved you. You’ve done a right fine job of caring for her.”

  “But… But I don’t want to be done,” Lindy sputtered. “I can keep caring for her.”

  Old Mae shook her head. “Now, now, Lindy. This isn’t about you.”

  Lindy sucked in her breath, and shame filled her. Of course, this wasn’t about her. How could she be feeling sorry for herself?

  This was about Berta. And Berta’s transition.

  Ach, Robert. He must be hurting so. And Reuben. Where was Reuben?

  She snapped the reins a bit more vigorously. Old Mae patted her hand. “Slow and steady, child. Life is slow and steady.”

  Lindy took another deep breath. “Jah, Old Mae. Sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry, child. You love Berta. No need to be sorry.”

  Lindy drove up to the Mast porch, and as calmly as she could, she secured the reins. She even managed to wait for Old Mae to get down and go up the steps. Then she couldn’t stand it anymore. She hurried up the steps and opened the front screen, ushering Old Mae inside.

  She stood aside and Old Mae walked into the front room. “Hello, Robert.”

  “You’re here,” he said, and
Lindy heard the relief in his voice.

  “I’m here. Is she awake?”

  “Nee.”

  Old Mae turned to Lindy, extracting the squares of cloth from her waistband. “Take this one and make a strong tea with it,” Old Mae instructed, holding one of them toward her. “We might be able to get a bit down her.”

  “What is it?” Robert asked.

  “It’ll ease her,” Old Mae said. “Ease her way. Has she taken the pain pills?”

  Robert gave Lindy a helpless look. “Has she?”

  “Not since yesterday morning,” Lindy said.

  Old Mae studied Berta for a minute. “Then, I’d say the gut Lord is helping her mightily.” She turned to Lindy. “Go, child.”

  Lindy scurried off to make the tea.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Robert watched Old Mae caress Berta’s face and shoulders. Berta stirred but didn’t awaken.

  “Is she… Will she wake up?”

  Berta smiled softly. “Jah. From my experience, I would say so. Might not be for long, though, so don’t expect anything more.”

  “So, you think she’s…”

  “Jah, Robert. She’s dying. She’s ready to make her transition.”

  Robert moved closer until he was brushed up against Old Mae’s side. “Will she go to heaven, Old Mae?”

  Old Mae looked up at him with eyes that held the wisdom of the ages. “She’s a gut woman, Robert. She’s been faithful and loyal and kind. To my thinking, the Lord will welcome her home.”

  Robert’s throat nearly closed as he listened to Old Mae’s words. He could hardly breathe. He looked at his mother’s face. She looked peaceful and not in pain, which made no sense at all. Considering what she’d been suffering these last months, she should be writhing on the bed. But she wasn’t.

  He loved her. He loved her with everything in him. But he couldn’t keep her there. He couldn’t even hope she’d stay long enough for Reuben to see her. If she was ready to go, she had to be free to go.

  He stood beside Old Mae and from the kitchen, he heard the faint sounds of Lindy preparing the tea. He doubted Mae would be able to get even a spoonful down his mother’s throat. Berta was so still, so unmoving, that she didn’t look as if she would ever wake up again.