Gathering the Threads

by Cindy Woodsmall

  His Daed called the police station? Abram could hardly believe it, but his Daed had changed a lot. Maybe he was sick of the ministers running roughshod over the flock, or maybe he wanted to push for justice for Berta Schlabach.

  The detective clipped his badge back on his belt. “I have Eli Schlabach’s address, but public records show he died about seven years ago.”

  “Ya. His widow still lives at the same address, though.”

  “Okay. I’ll check again. I went by there, but no one answered, and I wasn’t sure anyone lived there.”

  “Maybe you should talk to my sister Ari. She goes by there at least once a day.”

  “It sounds as if I caught a break by knocking on your door.”

  “Maybe.” Abram went to the foot of the stairs. “Ari?”

  All four girls came down the stairs, carrying boxes. “Ya?” Ariana answered, unable to see them for the boxes. Abram went up a few steps and took them from her. “There’s a detective here with some questions.”

  Ariana walked over to the man and extended her hand. “Ariana Brenneman. What can I help you with?”

  “I need to speak to Mrs. Eli Schlabach. Any idea when she might be home?”

  “I assume she’s there now.”

  “I was just there, and no one answered. I’m in an unmarked car, so maybe she just didn’t come to the door.”

  “Can I ask what this is about?”

  “I’m looking into a complaint filed by Eli Schlabach.”

  “By Eli? Why would you ask about that now?”

  “Typically I wouldn’t answer that. But the Amish community tends to be very closed to working with the police.” He shifted, offering a smile. “If I answer your questions, could you surprise me by answering mine?”

  Ariana sighed. “You know the Amish well, Detective.”

  “Enough to be familiar with the code of silence.” He pulled a small pad and pen out of his pocket. “In answer to your question, Mr. Brenneman called the station and asked why we never followed through on Mr. Schlabach’s complaint. I couldn’t even find the case file, and we’re still looking for it. But we know two things: the detective assigned to the case had to leave his job abruptly and move to another state due to a family tragedy, and we were in the process of changing the computer systems at the time. So a lot of files were redirected or corrupted. There’s a main database that saves everything, and we’re trying to locate the complaint. In the meantime I’m doing some prelim legwork.”

  Ariana looked grieved. “So the detective assigned to the case left, the file was lost, and Eli died. I have to tell you that’s a lot of bad things happening at the same time.”

  “It is, which is why I’m trying to unravel some of it before I go home tonight.”

  Ari gestured toward a chair. “Reopening this case now is going to be hard on Berta. She’s sort of put everything in a box, tied it with a ribbon, and is waiting for heaven so God can unravel the confusion and take the hurt.”

  “I can’t drop this, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Ariana nodded. “She has five sons, and not one of them would want her by herself when you discuss this.”

  “Okay. Fair enough. It’ll probably take a few more days for IT to find the original complaint. Something about searching through corrupted backup files. Do you think she knows much about the report her husband filed?”

  “I do. She and her youngest son, Quill, know more than anyone.”

  He nodded. “I apologize for how out of touch I sound, but I don’t have a file to refer to. All I’m going by right now is the call Mr. Brenneman made to the station and the research I’ve done in public records based on that call. Mr. Brenneman mentioned that a girl had been poisoned, a Frieda Miller. But he wasn’t able to confirm if she was still alive.”

  “She is. I only text with her, but Quill sees her regularly.”

  He rubbed his forehead, sighing. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that. Any idea of the whereabouts of John Miller, the girl’s father?”

  “No. I was told he took off when he heard Eli went to the police with the information.”

  “Was she an only child?”

  “No, one of seven. But it’s believed she was the only one he poisoned.”

  “Do you have an address for the Miller family?”

  “I don’t. But I can text Quill and ask for it.”

  “That would be great. Thank you. And let him know I’ll go by his mother’s house Saturday around three.”

  Ariana pulled her phone from her pocket, and her fingers flew across the screen. After a few seconds the device made a boing sound that Abram had learned meant an incoming message. Ariana read it, typed a response, and quickly received an answer. “I have an address for you, and he’ll be at his Mamm’s house Saturday.”

  Ariana struggled to breathe as Rudy drove the carriage down the paved road.

  He tapped the reins against the horse’s back. “Why?” he whispered. “I keep trying to understand your actions and decisions, and I just don’t.”

  “I needed money to get the café’s finances in shape. I’ll pay him back.”

  “You just don’t stop, do you, Ari?”

  “Meaning?”

  “You always have to get your way. You wanted to go to the B&B, and you went. You wanted to keep your phone, and despite the ministers’ displeasure, you still have it. You wanted your Daed to lift the ban on the café without you giving any concession in return, and he did. And now you’re telling me that more than a month ago—more than a month, Ari—you borrowed money from the man who gave money to MAP. Do you realize you’ve linked yourself, your café, and your Amish family to an atheist?”

  “First, the man is my father. Second, he’s seeking, and seekers find. Remember? Third, I will be his daughter for the rest of my life. Should I shun him because he’s not exactly where you think he should be? I certainly hope not, because I’m not where I think I should be either. Are you? We’re made worthy by grace, Rudy. Not judgment or expectations from the church, but by God’s grace.”

  His brows were knit tightly, and he shook his head as if he was giving up that argument.

  “The police coming to Berta’s tomorrow will cause blowback on you, and I know that situation isn’t your fault. But that aside, in your two months of being home, you’ve done nothing but fan the flames of gossip. I didn’t sign up for this, Ariana.”

  His words stung, and her thoughts were as murky as the rivulets of dirty water that ran across the road as the snow continued to melt. The land still had more white than patches of brown grass, but the smell of spring in mid-March rode on the air.

  She hadn’t exactly signed up for this either.

  “I didn’t get everything. I didn’t move in with Berta, and I did that for us. But you’re right, I’m different. Apparently annoyingly so. I get it. But what did you sign up for, Rudy?”

  “Peace and simplicity. The Old Ways. Shutting out the world so we can hold tight to faith. Marriage. Children. The Amish here, especially compared to my home in Indiana, are quite balanced, but that’s not good enough for you.”

  “Balanced? I was preached against, my reputation was ruined, and they used First Samuel 15:23 to say I was full of rebellion, like a witch. That’s balanced?”

  “No. That was anger, and it was wrong, but you did stir the pot.”

  Ariana had no idea what to say in response. She crossed her arms and stared out the window.

  Rudy slowed the rig. “Don’t get mad at me for being honest. I’ve stood by you through everything, and I’ll continue to do so.”

  “Hopefully without throwing any more hammers across the room.”

  His face grew hard. “That’s not fair. The whole situation has been nothing but stressful since your parents said you weren’t their biological child. I’ve been very patient, Ariana. Still, slinging that hammer was wrong of me. At the same time, you can’t provoke men at every turn and then blame us for reacting.”

  Ho
w many different sides did he take just now? It’s your fault. Actually, it’s mine. No, I’m wrong; it is your fault.

  She tugged at a loose thread on her thick sweater. “Please tell me I’m wrong, but it sounded as if you just said that when the ministers ruin a good woman’s reputation in a matter of minutes and when my fiancé loses control and throws a hammer, it’s my fault.”

  “I said we—the ministers and I—were wrong.”

  “Wrong. Ya. And I know it was. Before I left here, I thought it was my duty to accept full responsibility for whatever wrong I was told I’d done. Women aren’t supposed to hold any man accountable.”

  In that moment Ariana realized anew what she needed to do to make a difference. Women needed to know more about other cultures and other times in order to balance out what they were being taught. Ignorance wasn’t bliss. It made innocent people prey—prey to those who had knowledge, prey to those who knew how to manipulate truth, and prey to their own silly, unbalanced thoughts.

  She needed to bring speakers into the café on Friday nights, maybe once or twice a month. Maybe she could get history professors who could open up new worlds of understanding for anyone who chose to come and listen. Despite the frustration over the argument with Rudy, Ariana felt hope and excitement shimmy through her. It would cause a lot of frowning and gossip in the thirty-and-over crowd. One advantage of having her reputation mutilated from the pulpit is that she couldn’t go much lower in people’s eyes. That brought an odd sort of freedom.

  “Rudy, our people need fresh knowledge coming in. We need historians to share about cultures and events that have taken place across the centuries. It’d open minds and free the spirit to see God beyond our tiny town on its tiny dot in the time line of history. That happened to me at the planetarium I told you about. I listened to facts, and I saw God inside it, Rudy. I envisioned this huge, amazing ball of energy that is love. Did you know that in some ancient societies, women were highly esteemed and considered good leaders?” She held up her hands and shook them. “Sorry, rabbit trail. But I wouldn’t ever let the teachers discuss the Old Ways or teach the Word, although they could share about the culture. Learning history in that way would open our hearts to something bigger and stronger than the Ordnung, something more valid than man-made laws and rules.”

  “What?”

  She repeated it.

  “How?”

  “The café. I could open it on Friday nights, have a speaker, serve free refreshments.”

  “You know some history professors?”

  “No, but—”

  “Never mind. I know the rest of that sentence. Nicholas. Do you realize you would bring more trouble onto your head? Our heads?”

  “But if good is accomplished, who cares?”

  He stared out the front window. “You’re ruining the surprise I mentioned.”

  She was ruining it? Just her?

  His shoulders were square, taut with anger. “Could you sit back and settle down? This ongoing argument isn’t us, Ariana. We need something fun, and I have the answer.” He pulled onto a long dirt driveway.

  “The Steele place?”

  “Oh, so you know it?”

  “Ya.” It was a small home, maybe a hundred years old. A foreman or maybe a sharecropper probably lived there originally, and her Daed said the main house burned to the ground forty years ago.

  “I didn’t realize there was a house out this way until my uncle said the last renters just moved out and it’s up for rent again.”

  She knew it well. For years Quill would saddle two horses, and they would explore every inch of Summer Grove, often beyond it. One time when the house was between renters, they were out this way, and Quill asked the painters if they could walk through the house. Her insides had knotted at the idea of asking for permission, but Quill assured her it’d be a mistake to miss the opportunity.

  As adventurous as he was, he had a healthy fear when it came to keeping people safe. Maybe that particular point of concern was a gift from God so he would be very careful with those entrusted to him, but his personal sense of adventure seemed limitless. He’d texted her once since returning to his normal life and told her that while helping Gia and the children get acclimated, he’d taken a day off to go deep-sea fishing and had reeled in a five-foot barracuda.

  “Hallo?” Rudy sounded annoyed.

  What had he just said? “Ya, it is a long driveway.”

  “I like that. We’ll have privacy galore. If we don’t grab it, someone else will. I could go ahead and move into it, but I don’t really see a reason to. I mean, a man on his own. What am I supposed to do? Go hungry?”

  She chuckled. “I’m sure your aunt would have food waiting for you when you arrived at work.”

  “Ya, that solves that problem, but it doesn’t fix the rest. No, I’m not one to live on my own. I like people around me.”

  The idea of living alone didn’t sound so bad anymore, although her first weeks of sleeping in a room by herself at Brandi’s house and then at Nicholas’s place had been unsettling.

  The house came into view, and Rudy stopped in front of it. “The property manager isn’t here yet.” He set the brake. “I’ll rent it now, and it’ll be ready and waiting when we marry.”

  Suddenly she understood. She saw what was happening as clearly as if it were a movie playing out in front of her. He wasn’t only looking for a place to rent. He was looking for ways to shore up her commitment to him. Whether he was consciously aware of it or not, he was testing to see if he’d corralled her into the right cattle chute. Since she’d returned, she had felt as if he were using a cattle prod to move her in the direction he wanted. But it had started last fall before they knew she wasn’t a Brenneman. He’d asked Ariana to marry him, and she hadn’t responded as he’d hoped, which led to their first argument. So the issues between them right now weren’t solely from her time away.

  A desire to fight for them lunged forward, like a woman trying to snatch her child from oncoming traffic. But why was it so important that she marry him as soon as possible? She was twenty and he was twenty-one. What was the rush? Before she could gather her thoughts well enough to voice them, the sound of car tires on the gravel let them know the property manager was pulling up behind them.

  Rudy got out of the rig, all smiles as he waved at the approaching vehicle.

  She slid across the seat, getting out on the driver’s side.

  The car stopped and a man got out. He smiled and said his name was Stuart, and Rudy introduced Ariana to him.

  Stuart went up the porch stairs and put a key in the lock. “On the phone you sounded pretty sure of wanting this place. How soon would you be able to move in?”

  Rudy started up the stairs behind Stuart, but then he stopped, held out his hand, and waited for her. She slid her hand into his, and he winked, trying to assure her everything would be fine.

  She wasn’t convinced. Her stomach muscles were taut and trembling.

  “Focus,” Rudy whispered.

  She nodded, knowing this should be exciting, but it felt out of place.

  Rudy held the screen door open. “It could be a while before we move in. We’re not married yet, but I’d be willing to pay rent between now and then.”

  “Yeah? But how long? An empty house doesn’t fare as well as one that’s lived in. It’s sort of strange, but normal wear and tear on a house is necessary to keep the infrastructure sound.”

  “Six months.”

  They had to go through instruction and be baptized into the faith, so mid-September was the earliest they would be allowed to marry. But the bishop could easily refuse to let them marry. He would probably allow her to go through instruction classes and be baptized into the faith, perhaps to show her God’s grace or maybe because if she joined, he’d have the power to shun her if she stepped out of line. But he could refuse to let them marry if he felt she wasn’t lining up as he deemed fit.

  “I’d have to talk to the owners about that. Neither of yo
u wants to live here during that time?” Stuart walked past the foyer and into the open space.

  Ariana tugged on Rudy’s hand. “What if we can’t marry that soon?”

  “Of course we can.” He sounded sure. “You just have to play nice, as I’ve said before.” His eyes moved over her face. “Kumm on, Ari. For me. For us.”

  She pondered the idea. “I…I guess I could prepare a meal for the ministers, and we could talk to them together, trying to open understanding on both sides.” But she wasn’t fond of the idea. The ministers had been unfairly difficult. Still, she could be contrite toward them for…something. She felt as if she were digging in the dark, hoping to find some nugget that would satisfy Rudy.

  “The bedrooms are pretty small.” Stuart’s voice echoed from somewhere inside.

  Rudy peered down at her, looking pleased for the first time in weeks. It wasn’t his fault everything about her had changed. But if she could change back for him, would she?

  Stuart came back to the foyer. “Problem?”

  “No.” Rudy walked into the open space. “Just hammering out our quickest path to moving in here.” He turned to her. “Right?”

  Quill’s voice from ten years ago echoed off the walls as he called her to move away from the front door and look around. “It’s okay, Ari. We were given permission. Now let’s enjoy it.”

  She’d followed him that day, trusting him despite her anxiety. But now she remained in place by the front door, looking around. “How soon would you need a deposit and the first month’s rent?”

  “If you want this to stay off the market, I’d need you to sign papers tonight and pay the money by tomorrow night.”

  She looked at Rudy, trying to convey it was too fast.

  He strode through the one-story house, peeking into the bedroom without leaving the open area. “I’m ready to sign.”

  “I…I think we need a little time.” Ariana chuckled, trying to soften the fact that she’d spoken against what he was saying to Stuart.

  Rudy’s face drained of emotion.

  She tried to shrug, but her muscles seemed frozen in place. “Couldn’t we sleep on it one night?”