Skylar hadn’t been able to put the brakes on the very thing she’d set in motion. She had everything she’d wanted: Ariana pushed out of her own café and a huge gift for Lovina and Isaac without Ariana being any part of it.
Skylar couldn’t remember a time when she felt more defeated.
The kerosene lantern flickered and steam drifted through the bathroom as Ariana filled a tub and slid out of her clothes. Her tears wouldn’t stop. He’d listened to her as a confidant for months, both in the Englisch world and here. He’d calmed her and advised, but through it all, he believed she was the problem? He hadn’t even cared that tonight had been their last real opportunity to talk. She pulled a towel off the rack and dried her face. The crying had to cease.
She dropped the towel on the floor beside the tub and stepped in. The warm water against her legs hurt, and she had to clench her teeth to keep from crying out as she eased to a sitting position. She leaned back, drawing a deep breath and trying to relax her aching body. Hopefully she would stop shaking fairly soon.
What had she seen?
God, what’s happening?
She closed her eyes and prayed, focusing on the weird thing that had occurred when she was walking through the woods. The sequence of events was blurry, maybe disordered in her mind. She relaxed against the tub and let her mind ponder.
As she’d walked through the woods, a loud sound cracked through the air and startled her. Maybe the ground shook, but whatever happened, she’d fallen hard. She remembered rolling over, face down and covering her head as a tree fell near her.
Pulling away from her thoughts, she looked at the backs of her hands. She had scrapes, cuts, and a gash. Looking at her forearms, she realized the tops of each had red patches that were swollen and bruised. That gave her a little evidence to go along with her memory.
She remembered being unable to breathe, as if something had smacked her in the back and knocked the air right out of her. Gasping for oxygen, she’d pulled herself to her knees. When she looked up, she thought she saw Quill. He was blurry and still as a tree trunk. Maybe that’s what she saw, a dark tree the height of a man. It had fallen pieces all around it, all around her. Then the wavery figure turned and walked off, telling her he needed her. In that moment she’d been positive it was Quill.
Her head spun with confusion, but it was her heart that was as splintered as that broken tree.
Someone tapped on the door. “Ariana, kann Ich kumm rei?” Salome asked.
Normally Ariana would say yes. Any sister could enter and talk while Ariana was in a tub or shower or getting dressed. But Ariana felt too naked in front of everyone of late, even when fully clothed, so she picked up the towel she’d dropped beside the tub and pulled it into the water with her. “Ya.”
Salome came in, carrying a steamy mug, and closed the door behind her. “Hot chocolate just the way you like it.”
“Denki.” Ariana took the cup. The two women sat in silence as Ariana slowly drank the goodness from the mug. He thought she was the problem? Her emotions got the best of her, but she’d been confident she was level headed and fair minded, even obedient to a fault at times.
Salome leaned her backside against the sink. “What happened that you returned without Rudy and with half of your dress wet?”
Ariana didn’t want to talk about that. “I’m sorry, Salome.” Tears fell again. “I’m sorry I didn’t understand how bad the pressure can get when your family, ministers, and community disagree with your decisions. I’m sorry I fought with you when you wanted Quill to help you leave. I’m sorry I made you promise to stay until I returned when I should’ve set you free to do as you needed.”
Salome knelt beside the tub and wrapped her hand over Ariana’s arm. “Honey, we’ve talked about this, and you’re painting yourself as the one who was wrong. Are you okay?”
“Not at the moment, but I will be. I promise.”
“Is it Rudy?”
“Nee.” Ariana shrugged. “Maybe. But Quill…” When she’d thought he was calling to her, she’d been ready to help, and like a lot of dreams, it felt good, as if she had something of value to give to a friend who’d helped her time and again. But when the confusion faded, she realized he felt the same about her as Daed and the ministers did—that she was the problem. Tears came again. “Salome, could we talk tomorrow?”
“Sure thing.” Salome passed her a dry towel and took the empty mug. “I’ll be back with some fresh clothes and my warmest housecoat. A girl could get a chill in your old housecoat.”
“Denki.” Ariana closed her eyes, thinking of the vision in the woods.
One thing seemed rather clear. Answers to life did not come easily, and they didn’t come without challenges and emotional turmoil. It was past time she accepted that. Every issue had numerous facets to it, and every person had a multitude of opinions. She was responsible for figuring out for herself what she believed and how she would respond to circumstances. She’d spent twenty years thinking her Daed, the bishop, and the other ministers had the answers.
They didn’t.
Would she learn to navigate this new Amish world of hers, the one where she was supposed to submit to people who thought they had the right answers for her but didn’t?
Quill leaned against the side of the barn, waiting for the owners of the three carriages to leave the Brenneman home. If he was positive the rigs belonged to family members, he’d go to the door now and knock. He used to know who every horse and rig belonged to, but he’d been away too long, and people had traded horses and bought new rigs.
As the winds howled and the temperature dropped, he wondered if he’d get a chance to speak with Ariana before he had to leave Summer Grove tonight. Remorse pressed in as he stared into the vast beauty of the dark sky and its sparkling stars. She’d wanted to talk, to have a final, decent good-bye, and he’d lied to her, making her believe the problems crashing in on her were her fault. He’d needed her to get to warmth, to get home, where she could be checked out, maybe seen by a doctor. But he couldn’t leave things like this. He’d done that five years ago, and he could not do it again.
A clatter echoed from the barn, and Quill assumed Mark was finishing the last milking of the day. Mark’s brother-in-law Emanuel had been helping him for a while, but he’d gone inside about thirty minutes ago.
Maybe Ariana and he could be at odds on a colder, more miserable night, but he doubted it. He was reasonably skilled at remaining calm and in control of what he said. But, good grief, she got under his skin like no one else.
Her voice echoed in his mind, and his body grew tense. You need me, don’t you? What was he supposed to do with a question like that other than deny it?
The door to the Brenneman house opened, and he recognized three of her married siblings and spouses. They were surrounded by seven or eight children and carrying two little ones. He couldn’t tell through the thick coats, but he guessed at least one of the three women was expecting again.
Quill was looking at Ariana’s future. He wanted that for her—the dream she’d always had of a good man, an Amish wedding, and a houseful of children. But he was tired of thinking about it.
The siblings waved and bid one another good night, and soon they were in their carriages and pulling out of the driveway.
Quill hurried across the snowy yard. He climbed the wooden porch steps, knocked on her door, and waited.
Isaac opened the door, and apparently he was speechless.
“I know you don’t want me here, but I need to see Ariana. I won’t take but a minute.”
“Nee. Du kannscht.” Isaac started to close the door.
Quill stuck his foot in the way. “I’m sorry, Isaac. I mean no disrespect, but I can’t leave here until I see her.”
For a long minute Isaac stared at him. “Wait here.” He left, and through the window Quill saw the busyness cease as the other siblings disappeared, probably being shooed upstairs to their rooms and told to stay there. It wasn’t likely Isaac told them
why he was clearing the downstairs.
About five minutes later Isaac opened the door. Quill stepped inside and closed it behind him.
Isaac picked up a kerosene lantern. “I’ll get her. You can wait here.”
By here, Isaac meant for Quill to stand at the back door, ready to speak his piece, and then leave. Isaac wasn’t being intentionally rude. He had asked for Quill’s help in September because he didn’t have anyone else to turn to. Even then, there had been an unspoken expectation that Quill would disappear from the Brennemans’ lives once his investigation of the daughters being swapped was completed. For a multitude of reasons, it hadn’t yet worked that way.
Mark came inside, and in the middle of taking off his coat, he spotted Quill. “Schlabach? What are you doing here?”
“Hi.” Quill saw no reason to avoid the question. “I’m waiting to speak to Ariana.”
“So you just traipse in and out of Amish homes at will these days?”
“No, of course not.” The Brennemans had approved Quill picking up Skylar in October and dropping her off here. Should he remind Mark of that? He’d made himself available to this family whenever they asked. Tonight he needed them.
Mark removed his boots and winter hat and went to the mudroom. A moment later Quill heard water running in the sink. He knew this routine well. Mark returned, rubbing his face on a threadbare towel. The two had been close at one time, but that friendship had been another casualty of Quill’s decision to leave the Amish.
Isaac returned. “She’ll be down in a minute.”
The three men stood there, awkwardly trying to make small talk about the harsh winter and being ready for spring.
Quill decided to say something worthwhile. “Skylar seems to be doing well.”
Isaac smiled, looking pleased. “She is. Now if I can get Ariana’s attitude straightened out, both girls are looking at bright futures.”
“Yeah, we often want people straightened out by our standards. I’m guilty of it too.”
“God’s standards, not mine.”
“Maybe.” Quill shrugged.
Soft footfalls echoed off the stairway. “Daed?”
“Here. By the back door.”
Ariana came around the corner, looking like something from his dreams as the glow of the kerosene lamp in her hands surrounded her. Her hair was only half pinned up, the blond tresses damp, water still dripping from some of them. An off-white dress peeked out from a thick housecoat, and her feet were bare.
When she saw Quill, she stopped cold. The look in her eyes made it clear that her Daed had not told her he was here.
Quill’s heart moved to his throat. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t budge or speak, but the kerosene lantern trembled.
Isaac took the lantern from her. “Can you forgive him of whatever it is and let him be on his way?”
She stared at Quill, no hint of forgiveness on her face. “You’re not supposed to join the ever-growing crowd in Summer Grove who believe I’m the problem. Not you too.”
“My temper flared. Still, as a friend, I never should’ve—”
“A friend?” Mark asked. “Are you friends again?”
Ariana grabbed a handful of hair and twisted it in a knot, tucking it up somehow without a hairpin. “The only way I survived the Englisch world at first was because Quill came every single time I needed him.” She looked at Quill. “But apparently throughout every trial, there and here, he thinks I’m the problem, which is…very insightful.” Her eyes searched his, as if she was trying to see if he’d been lying to her all this time.
“Could you be reasonable here, Ari? I was saying—”
“You should be thrilled.” She turned to her Daed. “He agrees with you and the ministers. Apparently I’m a problem in both worlds.”
“That’s not what I was—” Quill began again.
“No? Because the words seemed clear to me,” Ariana said.
Isaac’s head moved back and forth between Quill and Ariana. “You can’t have a foot in both worlds. You’ll love one and hate the other.”
Quill blinked. How did that fit into this conversation?
“I am of both worlds, Daed.” Ariana held out her hands, palms up. “You can’t discipline or humiliate that out of me.”
“Humiliate?”
“You’ve stripped me of the right to work at my own café. The ministers stood in this home, my home, and preached against me, feeling no concern that you would be offended. And you weren’t. You agreed with them.” Her voice trembled. “We both know the news of it has spread like wildfire among the Amish, crossing state borders.”
Isaac’s face reflected remorse. “It has gotten out of hand. I never meant…”
When Isaac let the sentence drop, Quill tried to veer the conversation back to its point. “Ari, I don’t agree that you’re the problem. Not at all. Not for a minute. But you were thigh deep in snow and addled, and yet you refused to get on the horse. I would have said anything to get you headed toward home.”
“Her refusal to do what’s best continues to grow,” Isaac said. “The ministers offered reasonable solutions, and she’s refused them.”
“Reasonable for whom? Would you have considered it reasonable if Nicholas had refused to let me return here?”
“Nee. That’s absurd.”
“Is it? Your grounds for wanting me to cut off all contact with him are religious. His grounds would be to stop the inflow of religious teachings. I hate to upset the apple cart, but both viewpoints have merit, and I will not end either relationship.”
“Nor turn over your phone to me. Or even Rudy, as I understand it.”
“Oh, the phone. Good grief, you’d think it was a golden idol. I will not cave to bullying.”
“Ariana,” Isaac whispered, clearly struck immobile for several long seconds. “You stand in my house and call my decisions, my appropriate discipline, bullying?”
“Discipline is used to protect someone or to turn a person’s heart toward God. Bullying is using one’s power to force another to do what he wants.”
“But disobedience to your father isn’t of God.”
“Daed, there are lots of things going on here that aren’t in obedience to our heavenly Father. Things are being twisted. Arguments are being made against me as if obeying God is the issue, but it isn’t. Opinions of who God is and what He wants is all I’ve defied. The Word doesn’t mention cell phones. It doesn’t approve using Quill when needed but not befriending him, and it certainly doesn’t say I need to forsake Dad because he’s not yet a believer.” Ariana brushed drops of water off her neck. “I need to talk to Quill.”
“What?” Isaac looked from one to the other. “Alone? No.”
“How is it that you connected with Skylar?” Ariana asked.
“That was different. We were parents looking for our child, and…” He sighed. “Fine. But I could be shunned for allowing this.” He shooed them toward the living room and put on his coat. “I sent everyone to their rooms earlier, and I’ll be in the barn. If someone shows up unannounced, I hope I can distract them in conversation until they decide to leave.”
Ariana went to the living room, and Quill trailed behind, with Mark following him. She sat in the chair next to the fireplace and curled her feet to the side where they could absorb the warmth from the hearth.
Quill sat across from her. He wanted to ask about the man she saw and find out what she thought now that a few hours had passed, but since he wasn’t sure how she would feel about that topic with Mark listening, he didn’t mention it.
She grabbed a pillow and pulled it to her stomach. “Mark, do you know what Mamm did with the satchel?”
“Ya.” He left.
Quill stood and removed his coat. “I know me being here is awkward, but I had to see you. I couldn’t leave things as they were. If this is good-bye, let’s do it right, okay? But for the sake of everyone in this house, I need to leave as soon as possible.” He sat again.
Mark returned with the satchel.
“Denki.” She pulled out the container of cookies and the thermos. “Are you going to join us or stare at a distance and eavesdrop?”
“I’d just as soon keep my distance.” Yet Mark stood there, neither leaving nor sitting.
“Mark, five years ago Quill had no choice but to leave as he did, without warning. I doubt any Amish since coming to America have paid a higher price for doing what they believe in.”
Quill knew she wouldn’t see it that way if they hadn’t been forced together while she was living Englisch. They’d worked through five years of damage while she was on the outside. Now if he could just keep from damaging that while he said good-bye.
She passed Quill the thermos.
He opened it, poured the liquid into the cup, and passed it to her. Mark tossed a log onto the fire.
She sipped the coffee before holding it out to Quill.
He took the cup, wondering why they were sticking to the thermos as if they were at the campsite.
She tucked her hair into the bun again. “You need my help.”
“No.”
She picked up the container, opened it, and held it toward him.
He didn’t want to take a cookie and sip coffee as if they were working through things the way they had when she was living Englisch. He wanted her to accept his apology, to truly believe he hadn’t meant what he’d said, and for them to say good-bye without dragging it out any longer. He and Rudy agreed on a couple of things. They both loved Ariana, and Quill needed to put space between himself and her. But he took a cookie.
She picked up one too and held the container toward the fireplace, where Mark stood. Mark got a cookie, and she set the container on the couch next to her.
Quill fidgeted with the cookie. “How does Rudy feel about all this turmoil going on with you?”
“He’s not jumping up and down for joy, but he’s a sweetheart, and we’re doing really well.”
“That’s good.” Quill was relieved. “Look, Ari, you’ve seen what Mamm’s life has been like. The ministers have marked her because every son left. In most people’s eyes she’s barely short of being shunned, and the condition feels contagious to them, so most avoid her. You, on the other hand, can keep yourself from being branded. There’s still time. Think of Rudy and your future.”
Gathering the Threads Page 15
