by Mary Davis
But the future of the Miller farm was in jeopardy. They couldn’t lose their livelihood. There must be something more Deborah could do to help.
The book cover flashed in her mind, and she thought of Hudson. That was it. She could continue to model, earning money to pay the doctor bills. But her declaration to Amos about never modeling again played in her head. Taunting her. This was the path she’d set herself on over a year ago. This was how she could help her family. Apparently, her desire to be the one to stay with Mutter, and also learn about homeopathy, so her sisters could marry would have to wait. Her family needed money now, but not for her to dally with natural remedies and sit with her mutter when there were others who could do that.
Deborah grabbed the telephone from the small table by the front door and slipped out onto the porch, pulling the door most of the way shut on the cord. She called for a ride from an Englisher. It took only a couple of calls before she found someone willing to pick her up within a half an hour.
Thankfully, Amos wasn’t on watch at the moment, and she slipped away and across the field without any trouble. Once in town, she changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, let down her hair and walked to her destination.
She opened the door to the photography studio. The excited—and frustrated—voices of Hudson and Summer collided with each other and bounced off the cement walls. Deborah strolled inside to the sight of Hudson packing his camera gear in their hard-shell cases. Now that the weather was getting nicer, he must be preparing for a shoot outside in lieu of using one of his nature backdrops. She would take any job. Work six days a week if that was what it took to save the farm.
“Hallo?” Deborah called.
Hudson swung around toward her and frowned. “You? What do you want?”
She wouldn’t be deterred by his foul mood. “I was hoping you had a modeling job for me.”
He folded his arms. “I thought you quit. Never going to model again.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Why? You and that man on your farm were both pretty adamant.”
She’d hoped he wouldn’t ask, just be happy she was back. “My mutter needs some medical treatments. It’s going to cost a lot. I need to earn money to help pay for it.”
Summer pointed over her shoulder. “I’ll see what needs to be packed in the back.”
Hudson unfolded his arms and crossed the room to Deborah. “So, you’re desperate.”
She hadn’t wanted to use that word, but it fitted. “In a way.”
“The only job I have, you won’t be interested in.” He held out his hands. “Sorry.”
“Why not? I’ll take anything.”
“Really? It’s in New York City.” He tapped his chest with the fingertips of both hands. “I finally got my break. I’m going to be famous.”
“New York?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You desperate enough to come? You could be famous, too. It’ll easily pay two or three times what any of us were making here.”
She didn’t care about being famous, but she needed the money. Two or three times more? Her family wouldn’t have to worry about the medical bills. But leave Indiana? Leave her family? New York would mean no more running across the field to a photo shoot during the days and spending the evenings with her family. She would have to choose between the two.
“You said you’d take anything.”
“I don’t know.” This was a much bigger decision than simply modeling. She’d have to leave behind her whole life and take up a new one. There would be no coming back. Could she sacrifice everything for her family, who never noticed if she was there? They certainly wouldn’t miss her. “Give me time to think about it.”
“No time. I’m leaving in the morning, and I need to know if I’m to save room for you in the van.”
If she didn’t go, her family would lose everything. If she went, she would lose everything. To choose modeling was to choose her family and vice versa. She’d thought Hudson had been ridiculous for suggesting she go with him the day he’d come out to the farm, and now that was exactly what she was contemplating. Her short-lived dream of learning homeopathy would die today. She’d been raised to think of others before herself, to be selfless. She hadn’t been doing either of those lately. Her life would change one way or another. She might as well make the change count for something. “I’ll go to New York.”
His eyes widened. “Seriously? I didn’t think you would, but I’m really glad you are. You don’t need to take anything from your Amish life. We’ll get you all new clothes and anything else you need. We need to pack up all my photography gear.”
Tears blurred her vision. “I need to go say goodbye to my family.”
“Don’t cry. It’s not like you can’t come back and visit.”
But she couldn’t. She would never see her family again. She would miss her family, and the community, too. A large part of her would miss Amos. But wasn’t he going to leave anyway? Leave her behind? So, whether she stayed or not, he would be gone. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
* * *
Amos stood on the corner, waiting for Jacob in Goshen. He’d texted his cousin that he was ready. Just when he’d thought that there might be one Amish girl who wouldn’t disappoint him, he’d been wrong. How could he have allowed himself to get emotionally tangled up with another female? Women caused chaos wherever they went. Life had been simpler on a farm with all males. Except his mutter.
Deborah, in Englisher clothes, strolled out of a building. Star Photography Studio.
She’d promised she quit. Promised to never go back. Just like a woman to go back on her word.
Not this time.
She headed off in the opposite direction from him.
He hustled after her and almost caught up to her and was about to call out when she entered a gas station/convenience store. He went inside but couldn’t see her. Where had she disappeared to?
“Hey, Mr. Amish man?”
Amos swung around to the cashier behind the counter. Was he talking to Amos?
The young man inclined his head toward the back. “She’s in the restroom, changing.”
Amos stepped over to the counter. “Who?”
“That Amish girl. She comes in sometimes when I’m working. She goes in dressed like an Amish and comes out looking normal, then later in the day, she goes in normal and comes out Amish. But this time was weird. She was only gone for twenty minutes or so. Usually, it’s hours.”
So, she changed her clothes here. “Thank you.” He went outside to wait and sat on the curb.
Ten minutes later, she exited and walked right past him.
He stood. “Deborah.”
She spun around.
“Or should I call you Debo?”
“What are you doing here?”
Even now, with her new betrayal, he wanted to take her into his arms. Instead, he closed his hands into fists to keep himself from reaching out for her. “I could ask you the same thing, but I already know. I saw you come out of the photography place. You promised you’d quit modeling and never go back.”
“I have no choice. My mutter’s medical expenses will cost too much. My vater will have to sell the farm to get her the help she needs.”
Excuses. “I was foolish enough to think you were different. I was going to ask you to leave with me, but didn’t because of your emphatic declaration of quitting.”
“Leave? So, you’re in town to meet up with your cousin, never to return home. This whole time on our farm, you’ve been plotting your departure. I’m leaving to help my family. What’s your excuse?”
Because he couldn’t trust her or anyone, but that wasn’t exactly true. He didn’t want to risk trusting for fear he’d be hurt again. Was that a gut reason to leave?
Tears filled her eyes. “I’ll miss you, Amos Burkholder.” She turned and walk
ed away.
He wanted to call her back. Shake some sense into her. Wrap her in his arms. He did none of those. Instead, he strolled back to the corner, where Jacob waited.
* * *
Deborah walked the whole way home from town. Two hours gave her a lot of time to think. Though she’d wanted to be the one to stay at home and take care of her mutter, it seemed as though the only way she could take care of her mutter and family was to leave them. She could make gut money modeling and pay for the medical bills that were already mounting up.
She ran into the house and up the stairs. She knew what needed to be done. She grabbed her tin of money and the novel with her on the cover. Back downstairs, she hurried outside. She’d seen her vater in the barn. She headed inside the shadows of the yawning opening. “Vater?”
He limped out of Floyd’s stall. “Ah, Deborah. Sad news. Amos has left us. It was time for him to go home.”
Home? Hardly. But that wasn’t why she had come. “Vater, I have some gut news.” She opened her tin. “This is for Mutter’s medical expenses. I’m going to be able to pay for the rest of them, too.”
He took her offered tin. “How? Where did this money come from?” He shifted his gaze back up to her. “There’s so much.”
“I earned it.” She bit her bottom lip.
“Doing what? You don’t have a job.”
She swallowed down her guilt and fear. “I actually do. I’ve been working in town. That’s where I would go all the time when I went for a walk.”
“Why did you keep it a secret?”
She held out the Amish novel. “I’ve been modeling. This is me on the cover of this book.”
He took it. “This is wrong, Deborah. It’s forbidden to have your picture taken. This is a graven image. You must stop at once.”
“I know. I did stop, but...”
“But you continue?” The hurt in his eyes stabbed at her heart.
“I have to. I can pay for Mutter’s medical bills.”
“Ne. I forbid it.”
Tears blurred her vision. “I don’t want our family to lose the farm.”
“We will survive this. Gott will take care of us.”
“Ja. And He’s going to use me to do it. I’m leaving in the morning for New York City. I’ll send all the money I make.”
He shook his head. “Ne. I won’t accept it.”
Then she would pay the hospital directly.
“You must stay.”
“Ne. If I go, I can help the family.”
“You’re just going to leave us?”
She nodded, afraid her voice would fail her.
Tears rimmed his eyes. “What am I supposed to tell the rest of the family?”
It touched her that he cared so much. She’d never seen him this emotional. “Tell them whatever you want. Tell them I’ve lost my way.” She choked on every untrue word. “Tell them I’ve chosen the world over them.”
“What about your mutter?”
“Don’t you understand? I’m doing this for her. For all of you.”
“If she could understand all that was going on with herself, do you think she would want you to do this for her?”
Ne. “This is the way I can help. Help her. Help you. Help the whole family.”
“Where do I tell her you’ve gone?”
“She probably won’t even notice. She’ll forget she ever had a daughter named Deborah. It’s best that way.”
“Is that why you’re doing this? You feel overlooked?”
Being overlooked was the reason it had been so easy for her to start modeling. She did it now because she loved her family too much to see them suffer.
If she’d paid more attention, maybe she would have realized something had been amiss. Words poured out that she couldn’t stop. “When I was younger, I felt as though I was getting away with something and to get out of work.” There had been a thrill in that. “Then, well...because no one noticed me, whether I was here or not. Naomi claimed as much of everyone’s attention as she could. It didn’t seem worth it to compete with her. If I wasn’t here, I wasn’t as hurt that no one paid attention to me. You all couldn’t notice me if I was absent, then it wouldn’t be because no one cared. I felt...”
Vater’s voice came out sad and full of compassion. “Alone and unwanted?”
How had he known? “Ja.”
Vater looked sad. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. You are neither alone nor unwanted. Each of my girls is a precious gift from Gott.”
Deborah didn’t feel like a gift. “Do you ever wish one of us had been a son who could help you more with the farmwork?”
“I always hoped to have a son, but I would never trade one of you girls for a son.”
“Not even Naomi?” She shouldn’t have said that. It popped out on its own accord.
He smiled. “Not even Naomi.”
She suddenly realized that Naomi probably acted out for the same reason Deborah had withdrawn from the family—lack of attention. If either of them had known Mutter had problems, maybe neither would have taken the paths they did. But Deborah’s path was set. She took her vater’s hand. “I need to do this. I’ll be able to pay the medical bills. You can keep the farm.”
“I would rather have my whole family than the farm.”
“You need the farm to support the family. Without it, what would become of everyone?”
“Gott will take care of us.”
“Maybe Gott sent me to that first photo shoot as a way to take care of my family.”
“Don’t do this.”
“It’s already done.”
“Then undo it.”
She wanted to, but that wouldn’t help anyone. “I’ll leave first thing. Don’t tell anyone until I’m gone.”
“The morning? Then I still have time to pray for you.”
It wouldn’t do any gut.
She’d once looked forward to modeling. Not anymore. It was a burden she must bear.
Chapter Sixteen
In the predawn light, Amos drove his cousin’s pickup along the country roads. He still had a current driver’s license from when he was on Rumspringa. Granted, it was from Pennsylvania, but still gut for another six months. And he had liked cars—fast cars—as a lot of Amish boys did, but gave them up when he joined church.
The truck’s engine suddenly chugged to a stop, and he lost the power steering. He cranked the wheel hard and coasted the vehicle to the shoulder. After several failed attempts to restart it, he jumped out and walked. Still a gut three miles to the Millers’, he hoped he got there before Deborah left for New York City.
He’d joined church back in Pennsylvania so he could ask Esther to marry him. After courting for two years, she’d turned him down and married someone else that same year.
Now history was repeating itself. He’d become Amish for a girl, and now he would stay Amish for a girl.
Something pricked his heart. Was he only Amish to please this girl or that? His parents? The church leaders? Were any of those gut reasons?
As he approached the Millers’ house, the sun peeked over the eastern horizon.
Teresa Miller stood at the end of the driveway, looking back and forth.
He hurried up to her. “Teresa, what are you doing out here?”
She twisted one hand in the other and shook her head. “Why am I here?”
She must be having a bad day.
He took her hands in his. “Why don’t we go up to the house?”
“I forget things.” Teresa blinked several time in rapid succession. “I’m not well. I know that. But I’m not unwell. Does that make sense?”
“Ja. But you’re doing much better.”
Her eyes brightened. “Am I?”
“Ja.” All the natural treatments and changes in her diet had impro
ved Teresa’s Graves’ symptoms. She would never be like everyone else, but she would be functional. She would always need someone to watch over her. And she would always have loved ones to do that.
“You are a gut boy.” She squeezed his hands. “Promise me something.”
He wasn’t really in a position to promise anyone anything. “If I can.”
“Don’t ever leave us.”
His heart ached for her. He’d already done just that. “I wish I could promise you that.” He truly did. “But I can’t. The bishop has told me to return to my parents’ farm.” He felt bad for telling her that when he had already left the community. True, no one knew yet. The Millers thought he’d gone home, and his family thought he was still at the Millers’.
“Oh, but you can’t. You must stay. Here. With us. I’ll have my husband talk to the bishop. I feel better because you’re here. You help Bartholomew. He needs another man here. Too many women. We need you. He needs you. I need you.”
What could he say to that? His heart cried out, Ja, I’ll stay. Then he could continue to see Deborah every day—if he could convince her to stay.
“You’re the one who found me on the road that day, aren’t you?”
She remembered that? “Ja.” He wished he knew then what he knew now. He could have helped her better, taken care of her.
“Don’t tell my husband or daughters that there’s something wrong with me. They depend on me. It’ll be our little secret.”
Should he tell her they knew? “Don’t you think they might already know?”
“Do you think so?”
“Ja.” He motioned toward the house. “Let me walk you to the house.”
“All right. I still don’t know why I came out here.”
