Fraying at the Edge

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “For such stupid creatures they sure can cause trouble.” Henry looked a bit bewildered. He’d been helping with the milking for a while now, but nothing like this had ever happened. “Those were cattle dogs herding the cows, but I’ve not seen them before.”

  “Me either.” Lovina held Esther tight, so grateful she was safe. “We’ll tell your Grossdaadi, and he’ll set the matter straight.”

  Salome held out her hands for Esther, and the little girl scrunched into her Mamm’s arms. For the first time in weeks, Salome looked into Lovina’s eyes. “Denki.”

  Lovina cupped Salome’s cheek with her hand. “Mei Lieb.” My love. Lovina had called her that since the day Salome was born. Even after Salome’s plans to leave the Amish in the dark of night, Lovina loved her. Did Salome know that? Lovina was angry with her. And hurt. But her love for Salome hadn’t wavered.

  Salome gazed into Lovina’s eyes, and tears ran down her face. She took a step back. “James, go inside and check on Katie Ann. Henry, get a bridle on the two horses so we can begin rounding up the cows.”

  Was Lovina’s eldest daughter trying to get a moment alone with her? If so, it would be the first in a long time.

  James went to Skylar and put his arms around her waist. Skylar pursed her lips and rolled her eyes—neither of which he could see—but she put her hand on top of the boy’s head.

  He beamed up at her. “Denki.”

  Skylar nodded.

  Salome closed the gap between her and Skylar. “You put him in the tree.” The awe in her voice was undeniable.

  Skylar shrugged. “He was trying to climb it. I just gave him a boost.”

  Salome glanced from the tree to Skylar. “That was quite a boost.”

  “And it wasn’t the closest tree to her,” Lovina added. Now it made sense why Skylar hadn’t ducked behind the nearest tree. She’d put herself in danger to help her nephew.

  Salome grabbed Skylar by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “Thank you.”

  Lovina half expected Skylar’s face to soften, but the lines across her brow grew harder. “Geez, people, all I did was give a kid a boost into a tree. And I’m the one who didn’t shut the gate properly.”

  Salome released her. “But that was an accident. Helping my son to safety was on purpose.”

  James took Skylar by the hand. “Kumm. I’ll get you some water.”

  Skylar wriggled her hand free. “I’m fine, kid.”

  “Kumm.” James motioned for her.

  Skylar sighed, but she followed him. A moment later James dropped back, walking beside her. She looked disgusted and weary when she glanced at Lovina.

  As Henry strode toward the barn to harness the horses, Salome turned to Lovina. “You saved my precious girl, and the words I’ve held back for so long won’t stay penned up.” Salome’s eyes again filled with tears.

  Lovina looked to the hills, hoping for wisdom as she nodded. “Go on.”

  “I know I hurt you and Daed deeply when I went behind your back and made plans to leave the Amish,” Salome whispered. “I can see that now. Missing Ariana the way I do, even after a good farewell and her promises to return, makes me realize what I would have done to you and Daed if I’d left without warning. But, Mamm, look.” Salome gently ran her finger down the side of her daughter’s scarred face.

  Esther had closed her eyes, ready to take a nap after the exhausting incident, clueless as to what her Mamm was saying. But Lovina knew.

  The memories of that day nearly three years ago played in her mind like a bad dream. The family had gathered in the yard, and Isaac had built a fire. Esther fell near the firepit. Like most nightmares, parts of what followed were a blur. They rushed to an Englisch neighbor, who drove Esther and her parents to the hospital. The doctors recommended skin grafts, and Salome wanted to follow their advice, but the Amish community pressured her to bring Esther home and follow the Old Ways, using herbal poultices instead. Salome’s husband, Emanuel, sided with the elders and the community, as did Lovina. Salome caved to the pressure, feeling shamed into trusting God over educated doctors. So she relied on the Old Ways.

  Salome was faithful night and day to make the best poultices and apply them numerous times a day. But what the church leaders had promised would happen ultimately didn’t. Esther suffered severe pain. Salome’s agony turned to depression. What Lovina hadn’t known until recently is that at some point during that arduous time, Salome and her husband contacted Quill, asking him to help them leave the Amish. Apparently the process with Quill went slowly, probably to give Salome and her husband time to pray and reconsider. They sold their home, moved in with Lovina and Isaac, and waited until Salome gave birth to Katie Ann, who was ten weeks old now. If the situation with Ariana hadn’t come up, Salome and her family would’ve been long gone by now.

  “Mamm?”

  Lovina drew a deep breath, coming back to today. “Salome, I have no stones to throw. Of course I forgive you.”

  “You mean it? Because I don’t get any sense that you really do.”

  “Ya, I mean it.”

  But she understood Salome’s reluctance to believe her. Lovina sounded hurt and weary rather than loving and forgiving. She’d spent more than three decades raising children, trying to give her all. How had she gone from a whole family to this broken disaster? It seemed to have happened overnight, but apparently the only thing that had happened overnight was her eyes were opened.

  Salome inched forward. “I love you, Mamm. My need to leave was never about how I feel toward you.”

  “Denki.” Lovina took Salome’s hand into hers and squeezed it. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Ya.” Salome shifted Esther onto her other shoulder.

  Lovina patted the little girl’s back. “You promised Ariana you would be here when she returns, but for how long, Daughter? Is your decision to remain Amish permanently, or is this merely something you feel obligated to do for a season?”

  Salome’s eyes moved to the ground, and the shards of Lovina’s broken heart were ground into powder. Salome lifted her head, looking her Mamm in the eyes. “I don’t know. I…I’m sorry. But I give you my word that if we decide to leave, I’ll come to you first.”

  Lovina looked at the tree that had protected James only minutes earlier. God had provided protection in a variety of ways as the cows had stampeded across the yard—a woodpile, a tree, the corner of the house, and three adults—one for each child. Where was His protection for her and her daughters’ hearts in all of this?

  Something at the base of the tree caught her eye. Peeping above the grass was a brown bottle with a white cap. She went to the tree and picked up the bottle. It was filled with round white pills, and the label had the name Charles Cook. Lovina’s heart sank. She didn’t need anyone to tell her they’d fallen out of Skylar’s pocket, probably as she helped James onto the tree branch.

  When did Skylar get these and from where…and from who? Had she managed to conceal them despite Lovina patting her down and going through her luggage? Or had she sneaked out at night and bought them from someone?

  Lovina closed her hand around the bottle, suddenly feeling like a woman who’d feared her husband was cheating and had just discovered the proof.

  “Mamm?” Salome walked to her. “Are you okay?”

  Lovina opened her hand, revealing the bottle. “Why do I brush aside reality until it sinks its teeth into my jugular?”

  Esther’s eyes were heavy as she snuggled against Salome’s shoulder. Lovina would give almost anything to return to that simpler time of being a young Mamm. Before decades of mistakes pressed the life out of her. Before her weaknesses tainted the harvest in her children’s lives, crops from seeds she’d never meant to plant.

  Quill put his palms on the hood of Dan’s truck, studying the electrical plans that were spread over it. He hadn’t found his copy, in part because the trip to see Nate Lapp had taken longer than he’d planned. Still, the three of them—Nate, Dan, and Quill—had managed
to have a good conversation, one worthy of their time. Quill wasn’t completely sure what was going on with Nate, so he would visit again and investigate a little more. But Nate seemed in good spirits, and Quill was leaning toward believing the young man was simply accident-prone.

  “So what happened?” Liam McLaren, a gray-haired, broad-shouldered man with a thick Irish accent, gestured at the plans.

  “I’m not sure.” Quill studied the plans in front of him, and they didn’t look accurate. If he’d messed up as badly as it appeared, it would take a lot of time and money to fix them. Still, this wasn’t the kind of thing a developer cared anything about. The general contractor usually addressed these types of issues, and McLaren himself doing it stuck out as very strange.

  “It’s obvious”—McLaren thumped the plans—“that you didn’t order or install the right-sized electrical panels.”

  “I agree that’s how it looks.”

  The new phase of building had begun about the same time as the upheaval in Ariana’s life. His time and attention had been spread very thin at that point as he’d tried to do right by her and help her get the café—for all the good it’d done either of them. Had he missed seeing the changes in the plans for the new phase?

  “That’s all you have to say?” McLaren asked.

  Quill looked up, studying McLaren, and the hairs on the back of Quill’s neck stood up. This man had more on his mind than Quill’s mistake. “Maybe I overlooked the info in the new plans. I would need time to locate my plans and go over my notes.” He wasn’t sure how much experience this man had with the construction process. “The project manager updates the plans as needed, and he’s responsible for adding a new date, sealing it, and writing superseded on all the old plans.” Quill pointed to each part of the plan as he talked about it.

  “So it’s Sanders’s fault?”

  “I’m not saying that. It may be completely my fault.” All the information on this set of plans was right. But what did the information say on the plans he couldn’t find? And where was the set of plans he’d used to order and install the panels and wiring for all those homes?

  While trying to sort through possible solutions, the private cell phone in his jeans pocket buzzed. McLaren would be furious if he took a call now, but Quill wouldn’t take the chance of missing a call from Ariana. What if she needed his help? He pulled it from his pocket and saw a number he didn’t recognize. “Excuse me. I’ll be brief, but I have to take this call.”

  McLaren slammed his hand on the hood of the truck. “I’m talking to you, Schlabach!”

  Quill held up his index finger. “Hello?” He heard nothing. Was anyone there? “Hello?”

  “I…I can’t do this.” The husky whisper sounded nothing like Ariana at first, and she was sobbing.

  “Whatever it is, I’ll help you. And not just me. You have my brothers and sisters-in-law who would do anything. You’re not alone, Ari.” When he’d left the Amish, the one overwhelming feeling was loneliness. He’d been confused, angry, sad, and a lot more, but loneliness was what dragged him under time and again.

  Her breathing was labored. “No. No one can fix this.”

  Chills ran up his spine. Whatever was happening, she was overwhelmed, and the way she’d twice said this stuck out like a warning flag. “What can’t you do, Ari?”

  She cried harder, and Quill ached for her. She’d had the same desire her whole life—to have the Amish dream: the simple life of faith, family, and hard work.

  “Ari, it’ll be okay. We’ll find solutions. Just talk to me.” He could only imagine the demands being put on her. He waited, and even though she said nothing, he heard her brokenness. “Ari, what can’t you do?”

  She said nothing, but the short, ragged breaths continued.

  “Ariana, what’s happened?”

  She hesitated and stammered. “I can’t say it. I can’t tell anyone,” she finally whispered.

  Panic unleashed within him, and he fought to temper it. What new thing had happened to put her in this state?

  He needed to look her in the eyes and will her to get control and find the strength to work through this transition no matter what it dished out.

  He dug in his pocket for his keys before remembering he’d come with Dan. He walked back to where Dan was. “Tell me what you need, Ari, and we’ll work on it together, just like we did when we were kids.”

  “I have to get home, Quill. I have to.”

  “Okay, then we’ll make that happen…somehow.”

  Could they find a way to convince Nicholas to release her without suing Rachel?

  “I had to remove my prayer Kapp, wear Englisch clothes, read and study Englisch things, but I kept holding on, thinking that I’m still me. Thinking that somewhere beyond all these changes, I’m still the same girl who grew up in Summer Grove…but I’m not her at all.”

  “Ari, where are you?” As soon as he asked, he pushed Mute on his phone. All he heard was her crying. “Dan, give me your keys.” He held out his hand. “I have to go.”

  Dan reached into his pocket.

  McLaren pointed. “You’re kidding me!” He slammed his hand on the hood of the truck again.

  Dan passed him the keys and grabbed the plans off the truck.

  “Look.” Quill fumbled with the keys until he had the right one. “If the mistake is my fault or if there is no evidence saying otherwise, I’ll make it right, working however many hours are necessary to get the homes rewired in time for their closings. And the cost and time will be covered by Schlabach Home Builders. Okay?”

  McLaren’s bushy eyebrows knit, and he glared at Dan.

  “He’s right. He has the full backing of Schlabach.”

  Quill hopped into the truck, leaving the door open as he started the engine. “Dan, call the family. Get everyone praying.” He closed the door and pressed the Mute icon again so Ariana could hear him. “Ari, please, tell me where you are.”

  Neither her sobs nor her breathing had calmed. “Did you know?”

  Before she learned she’d been swapped at birth, he was familiar with every tone in Ariana’s range of emotions. Whatever this was, he didn’t recognize it. What had she found out?

  “Focus on your future, Ari.” The truck wheels screeched as he pulled out of the job site. “You’ll return home to Rudy, join the church, marry, and have lots of babies. That’s your dream, and it will happen. Today will be a distant memory.”

  “Rudy…” She sobbed even harder.

  Why? His name usually brought her immediate hope and peace.

  She finally took a deep, jerky breath. “He’s as good as gone already. He just doesn’t know it.”

  Quill prayed not. If Ariana could come away from this mess with Rudy waiting for her, she would weather everything else. “He loves you.”

  “He loves a woman who doesn’t exist.”

  “That’s not true. You are you no matter what—the kindest, gentlest, strongest, and most honest and loyal woman I’ve ever known. Nothing that’s happened can take that away.”

  “Did you know?” she asked again.

  He hoped he wasn’t about to get caught in something else he hadn’t revealed to her. It had destroyed their friendship when she discovered that he’d known she wasn’t a Brenneman and that he’d kept it from her while getting to know Skylar. He’d seen it as a necessity. She’d seen it as a betrayal of her trust. “What I know is that Rudy’s love is deeper than you’re giving him credit for.”

  “Quill.” Her firm whisper hinted at her exasperation with him, but at least the weeping had slowed. “Did…you…know?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “That…that…I’m a bastard.”

  His heart plummeted, but that explained why she was in such a state. All she’d been taught for twenty years gave this news the power to push her to the edge. “I didn’t know. I…I had some suspicions. That’s all. But how you were conceived doesn’t mat—”

  “Ya, it does! My fat
her was married, and I’m the result of adultery. I’m just an inconvenience. Even the term love child doesn’t fit because my parents hate each other. I have no siblings, no Amish heritage, and adulterous parents!”

  “You are a gift, a miracle. You were the godsend that held me together when my Daed died and my life shattered. You are the cement that has held the bricks of the Brenneman family together time and time again. You are half of my mother’s heart, and you watched over her as if she were your own. You are among the best that this earth holds for a little while, and Rudy knows it.”

  “That’s how you want me to see myself. But who I am is a—”

  “Ariana Grace,” he spoke softly, “stop. Do not use that b word again.”

  “Why, because hearing it offends you? It’s who I am!”

  Despite her anger she was calmer than at first. Talking would help, especially with someone who could absorb her deepest hurt and angriest blows.

  “The word is derogatory and belittling. There isn’t a person alive who couldn’t be described with some ugly narrative. And you’re saying it as if it’s the most significant thing about you.”

  “The Amish ways are built on the life and times of Jesus. In His day when a woman was discovered as an adulterer, she was stoned to death, and I would’ve died with her, never seeing a day of life. If I’d been born before her sin was discovered, we both would’ve been stoned.”

  Ariana’s Achilles heel was her legalistic, unrealistic view. It was her nature to be obedient, to figure out what God and her parents expected of her, and to give a hundred percent effort. “Jesus changed that, remember? He said, ‘Let he who is without sin throw the first stone.’ And he wanted children—all children—honored and protected.”

  “I don’t recognize myself, Quill. I thought I knew who I was, but I have no love or compassion. I can’t stop judging people for even a minute. Cameron was out of line, and I told her off, screaming like an outraged teen. In all my years of living with my Daed, I’ve never talked to him with hints of sarcasm and anger the way I do Nicholas. It’s been a tough week, and now there’s illegitimacy to contend with.”