by Mary Davis
Deborah popped into his head. Would she understand why he was doing this? Of all people, he thought she might, but he couldn’t tell her.
Amos headed outside with his cousin. He needed to get back before he was missed. He got into his cousin’s truck.
Jacob pulled out of the driveway. “So, did you like them?”
For some reason, he was loathe to answer, but did so honestly. “Ja, I did. I really did.”
“You sound surprised.”
He was. He had anticipated not liking them. How could he like people who’d turned their backs on their Amish faith? But wasn’t that exactly what he was planning? “I know why you brought me here.”
Jacob turned onto the country road leading to the drop-off spot. “Why?”
“You wanted me to get to know Frank and Donita so I’ll be more comfortable leaving.”
“It’s human nature to resist new things. I sense you’re changing your mind. Ever since you started working on the Millers’ farm, you’ve been weakening in your resolve.”
“Not true. It’s just that I’m needed there. As soon as Bartholomew’s back on his feet and strong enough, I’ll leave.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ja.” But that wasn’t true. If his cousin had been pushing this the week before Bartholomew got injured, Amos would have already been gone, and the bishop would have asked someone else to help the Millers. Who would it have been? His brother Daniel? Daniel certainly was keen on finding out if any of the Miller girls were available to be courted. Would he be interested in Deborah? Ne. Daniel wasn’t right for Deborah. Maybe Miriam.
His cousin pulled to the side of the road, where he’d picked up Amos. Amos climbed out of Jacob’s truck.
“I’ll text you next week to let you know how things are going. We don’t want to put this off too long, or you’ll come up with all sorts of reasons not to do it.”
Amos nodded and shut the door. He could sense reasons already forming in the deep corners of his mind, and that was where he would keep them. He needed to leave his Amish life.
Jacob drove off, and Amos headed across the field.
Halfway between the pond and the house, a girl ran toward him. Sarah. Her arms flailed as she stumbled over the uneven ground. Her almond-shaped eyes were wider than normal. “Amos! Amos!”
He quickened his pace. When he reached her, he lowered onto one knee. “What is it, Sarah? What’s wrong?” Was it Bartholomew? Teresa? Deborah?
Sarah hugged him. “You were gone. I got scared of you.”
Was that all? He was gone? He looked beyond the girl to Deborah sauntering toward them. “Sarah. Let Amos go.”
Sarah shook her head against his shoulder. “Ne. I don’t ever want him to leave again.”
Deborah knelt next to her little sister and patted her back. “It’s all right. He’s here now. Let him go.”
Sarah pulled back but kept a grip on his shoulders. “You not go away again!”
Deborah took a deep breath.
He sensed she was going to admonish her sister, so he spoke up. “I already told you that I can’t promise to never go away. This isn’t my farm. When your vater is all healed up, he won’t need me any longer. I’ll have to leave then.”
“Ne, ne, ne! You have to stay. I won’t like you if you leave.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll come visit.” But he couldn’t very well do that if he was shunned. This little one might be the most upset of all when he was gone. Would Deborah be upset at all?
Sarah slapped her hands on the top of his shoulders. “I don’t like you!” She ran for the house.
“Sarah! Come back here and apologize,” Deborah called.
But the girl wouldn’t be stopped.
Amos stood and held out his hand for Deborah. Interesting that Sarah was upset that he’d left but hadn’t made a fuss when Deborah went missing for most of a day.
Deborah took his offered assistance and stood.
Her bare hand in his warmed him all over. He didn’t want to let go, and she didn’t seem eager to retrieve her hand even after holding it was no longer necessary. He stared down at her. He should let her go.
And not just her hand.
She stared up at him. “I— We missed you. Where did you go? No one knew where you went or knew anything about you being gone.”
That spoiled the moment. He pulled his hand away and started walking again toward the house. “Um... I went for a walk.” Wasn’t that what Deborah always told him?
Deborah fell into step beside him. “A walk? To the pond, no doubt.”
Her tone told him she suspected he went farther than just the pond. “I wanted to see what was in that direction that fascinates you so much. You take a lot of walks that way.” Gut. He could turn this back to her being missing yesterday. He hadn’t gotten to ask her where she went. His questions for her had been preempted by her mutter wandering in the field. “I didn’t get to ask you yesterday, where you had gone. You forgot to tell me before you left.”
“Oh, yeah. Oops. Sorry.”
He waited, but she didn’t say anything more. “So, where did you go?”
“Does it really matter now? I’m back.”
“Ja, it does.” Mostly because he was curious.
“I went for a walk.” She picked up her pace.
At the edge of the yard, he did something he shouldn’t. He took hold of her arm. “We need to talk about this.” He guided her toward the barn.
Once inside, she turned and folded her arms. She looked upset. Upset with him.
He wanted to let this go. He wanted to make her happy. Make her smile. But he couldn’t drop this. “I need to know where you went yesterday.” She opened her mouth, but before she spoke he continued, “And don’t say for a walk. I need to know specifically where you were.”
“Why can you go for a ‘walk’ and not report to anyone, but I can’t?”
“Because I’m a m—”
“A man. That’s not a reason. It’s an excuse. You tell me where you went today on your ‘walk,’ and I’ll tell you where I went on mine.”
He couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t understand. He took a slow breath. “What if something happened to you?”
“I’m here. I’m safe. End of story.”
“If I thought it was the end of you disappearing, I would drop this, but I’m not confident you won’t wander off unannounced. If something happened to you, no one would know where you were.”
She stared at him a long while before answering. “Nothing happened to me. What if something had happened to you?”
“Why do you keep turning everything back on me?”
“Am I? Maybe I was worried that you disappeared without telling anyone. You saw how upset Sarah was.”
“Sarah? Is she the only one who was upset?” He hoped Deborah had missed him.
She straightened. “Well...we were all concerned for you.”
Why did he get the feeling she was hiding something? Because he was? Did all of his suspicions about Deborah stem from his own guilt? No wonder she didn’t want to tell him when he treated her not much better than a criminal. What should he do? He didn’t want to make her feel bad, but he felt responsible for her.
One word popped into his mind. Trust.
He supposed he did trust Deborah. He really hadn’t thought about it one way or the other. Why would he? He didn’t not trust her, but he’d been treating her as though he didn’t.
“I fear I’ve been treating you like a child, like I don’t trust you. I want you to know that I do trust you. From now on, you don’t have to tell me where you’re going, but I do need to know you’re safe. Though I would appreciate knowing where you are.” He waited, but she didn’t say anything. “Don’t you have something to say?”
“Like what?”
Seriously?
She was supposed to be so impressed that she confessed her secret to him.
That didn’t happen.
“Like where you go all the time.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, then spoke. “I go...into town. To visit a friend...in need.”
Finally. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“So where did you escape to?”
He was a man and didn’t owe a woman an explanation of his whereabouts. Even so, he wanted to tell Deborah the truth but couldn’t. She wouldn’t understand what it was like for a man. Now that she’d told him where she went, he couldn’t turn the questioning back on her. “I had hoped to ascertain where you went all the time.” He’d tried to figure that out while he walked across the field to meet Jacob.
Of course, she would have a noble reason for leaving all the time. He should have guessed. Now that he knew she was helping someone, what excuse could he have for singling her out to talk to her so often?
Living on a farm with all women and girls except Bartholomew Miller was vastly different than home with all men and boys except his mutter.
There, it had been sensible, ordered and predictable.
Here, chaos reigned. Unbeknownst to him how it was possible, this bedlam worked.
* * *
Deborah lay in bed in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. She felt like a heel. She hadn’t lied directly to Amos. Not really. She had just omitted what kind of “need” Hudson had. He needed models. Could he do a shoot without her? Of course, but he was technically still in need.
She’d kept trying to get Amos to talk about where he had gone, as benign as it probably was, to distract him from where she’d been. But he was like the squirrels who kept going after the food in the bird feeder. They never gave up, and Amos wouldn’t give up asking her.
She needed to be more careful about returning. She had focused on getting away and hadn’t worried about when she came back home. How could she return without him seeing her? The problem was, after she’d been gone all day, he was probably on the lookout for her.
Maybe she could have her ride drop her off at a different place so she could look as though she was coming from somewhere else. But how many different places could she be picked up from and dropped off at?
Across the room, her sister breathed slow and deep.
Too bad Amos wasn’t still interested in Miriam, then he would be too distracted by her to notice whether Deborah was around or not.
Her heart tightened at the thought of all of the attention he would pay to her sister.
Ne. Miriam wasn’t the answer.
As Amos had said, it was only until Vater was healed, and then Amos would leave their farm. She didn’t like thinking about him no longer being here. Not seeing him every day.
Maybe she wouldn’t need to sneak away many more times while he was here. She had a shoot next week, but maybe after that, she could tell Hudson that she couldn’t make any other shoots for a while.
That was a better solution.
She rolled over and tried to force sleep to come.
Chapter Nine
Deborah waited until everyone was busy elsewhere to use the telephone in the house by the front door. Even though they had one, no one could use it without Vater’s permission. The chances he would grant permission for this call didn’t exist. She never had much cause to use the phone. Whom would she call that she couldn’t visit in person?
She picked up the slim gold-colored phone from the small table and slipped out onto the front porch with it, closing the door against the cord but not latching it. Glancing around the yard for any signs of Amos, she carefully removed the receiver as though someone might hear the nonexistent sound. She pressed the numbers for Dr. Kathleen’s clinic, hoping the beeps of the buttons didn’t carry inside, and leaned toward the door to listen for anyone coming.
Nine months ago, Kathleen Yoder had returned after being gone from the community for fourteen years. She’d done what no other Amish person had. She had gone to college and become a doctor. Then she’d returned and was now the community’s doctor.
She didn’t call herself Dr. Yoder, as an Englisher would have. Or now that she was married, she didn’t go by Dr. Lambright. She went by Dr. Kathleen. Some people simply just called her Kathleen. She didn’t seem to mind. The community had been slow to accept her as a doctor, but most people had come around.
One ring, then a second came through the line.
“Hallo. Dr. Kathleen’s medical clinic. Jessica speaking. How may I help you?”
“Hallo, Jessica. This is Deborah Miller.”
Jessica’s voice brightened. “Hi, Deborah. How are you and your family?”
“We’re all fine. Well, mostly. That’s why I’m calling.”
“Are you ill? The doctor has an opening after lunch if you would like to come in then.”
“That would be great.”
“I’ll just write your name in her appointment book.”
“Oh. It’s not for me. It’s for my mutter.”
After a pause, Jessica said in her same cheerful tone, “All right. I’ve got her name written down. What does she need to see the doctor about?”
How was Deborah supposed to answer that? “I don’t really know. That’s why I want Dr. Kathleen to see her.”
“What are her symptoms?”
“Um. Forgetfulness. She gets confused sometimes. But only sometimes.”
“Have her come in after lunch, and Dr. Kathleen will see her.” No need for a specific time, as with outside doctors. Everyone had lunch right at noon, so after that, the travel distance determined the approximate time. And no need to worry if you were a little—or a lot—late. The doctor worked in everyone.
Deborah hung up, hoping she was doing the right thing. If no one in the family would talk to her about what was going on with Mutter, then she needed a professional’s opinion. What if Mutter wandered off and got hurt?
Now the question was how to get her mutter to Dr. Kathleen without anyone stopping her. Or asking her what she was doing.
She slipped back inside, but before she could set the telephone back on the small table, it rang.
Deborah jumped, sucked in a breath and looked around. Their phone rarely rang. Dare she answer it? Of course, there wasn’t anything wrong with that. She picked up the receiver.
It was Jessica. “Dr. Kathleen said that she would like to check on your vater, so she’ll come out to your place after lunch.”
“Ne!” No one else could know about taking her mutter to see the doctor. They would try to stop her. “Never mind. We’re fine.” She clunked the receiver into the cradle.
“Who was that?”
Deborah swung around to face her vater leaning on his crutches. “Um.” She glanced at the phone. “Jessica...at Dr. Kathleen’s clinic. She...wanted to know how you were doing.”
“Did you tell her I’m doing well?”
She gave a noncommittal nod.
Vater hobbled away.
She slumped against the door. That was close.
After lunch, a buggy pulled into the driveway. When Dr. Kathleen stepped out, Deborah’s stomach lurched.
Ne, ne, ne!
She’d told Jessica not to have the doctor come. Oh, this was terrible. Bad, very bad. She needed to stop Dr. Kathleen before she spoke to anyone.
She ran outside to intercept the doctor, but Hannah and Mutter got to her first.
And Vater called out from his place on the porch. “Hallo, Kathleen.”
Too late now. Her vater was one of those who called the doctor by her first name alone.
How was Deborah going to keep Dr. Kathleen from saying anything about her call regarding her mutter?
Amos approached and took hold of the horse’s bridle. “Do you want me to unharness him?”
“Ne,�
� Dr. Kathleen said. “I won’t be very long.”
He gave a quick nod. “I’ll take him to the water trough and secure him there.”
“Danki.”
Amos’s attention shifted away from everyone and everything else and turned to Deborah.
She bit her bottom lip to control the smile that threated to bubble over. How could she feel so silly just because he looked at her?
He tilted his head toward the barn. “You want to help me?”
Ja, but she couldn’t. “I want to hear what the doctor has to say.” And keep her from saying something she shouldn’t.
Dr. Kathleen climbed the steps onto the porch. “Hallo, Bartholomew. How are you doing today?”
“I’m doing well. What brings you here?”
Deborah dragged her attention from Amos and willed the doctor not to say. “Oh, she was probably just driving by and decided to stop in, for a visit, all by chance, no planning, just happened.”
Her vater and sister stared at her.
Dr. Kathleen smiled, then looked at Vater. “I came to see how you’re doing. I wanted to check your leg and that shoulder to see how they’re healing.”
Deborah sighed, but the doctor could still let it slip that Deborah had called.
Vater glanced at Deborah. “Deborah said you’d called. You didn’t have to come all this way.”
Mutter opened the screen door. “Why don’t we all go inside? I’ll make some hot tea.” She seemed normal today.
Maybe Deborah had acted rashly. Maybe there was nothing wrong with Mutter. Maybe Deborah had imagined the whole thing.
Everyone trudged inside. Everyone except Deborah.
The doctor hadn’t said anything. Yet. But when she was through examining Vater, she would certainly turn her attention to Mutter.