Gathering the Threads

by Cindy Woodsmall

  Stuart nodded and went toward the front door. “I’ll lock up, but you two are welcome to stay here for a bit. Enjoy that nice front porch, walk around the property, and talk things over.”

  The three of them stepped out of the house. Stuart locked the door and put the keys in his pocket. “Just give me a call when you know what you’d like to do. Maybe it’ll still be on the market.” He waved, and in no time he was leaving in his car.

  “What just happened?” Rudy asked. “Tonight was supposed to be fun, and we should be floating on a cloud.”

  “You said you don’t want to live here alone, so it makes no sense to sign a contract.” She needed to be more honest than that, because it seemed as if she was blaming him. “My head is spinning. I…I’m not ready to sign a rental agreement. I’m not ready to commit to a home we don’t need yet.”

  “But you were ready to go with Quill to rescue some stranger, ready to borrow money from Nicholas for the sake of the café, and you stand ready to resist the ministers at every turn. It’s just too much for you to sign your name under mine on a rental agreement. Do I have that right, Ariana?”

  His words were heavy, his sarcasm pointed, and she again struggled to breathe. He loved her, but he wanted to mold her. “It feels as if you’re in a hurry to marry me, always have been, but I’m starting to wonder why. Is it because I’ll take a vow to obey you?”

  His eyes bore into her, distaste easily seen on his face. “I…I’m not even sure who you are anymore.”

  As she stood there studying him, the fog in her mind about what needed to happen began to clear. “Ya, I returned feeling the same way about myself, but I’ve discovered I’m still me, Rudy. My views of what’s right and wrong have changed, but my desire to do good and to make a difference wherever I can hasn’t.” She didn’t want to lose him, even if she had to lose a little of herself. But how much would he require?

  “How long do you intend to keep up your peaceful, stubborn resistance against the ministers? Will you brand our children with that stubbornness too?”

  He’d once been proud of who she was, but he was embarrassed by her now. He was holding on to the hope of her vow to obey him so he could insist she undo the damage to her reputation.

  A dagger pierced her heart as she realized what was happening, what had been happening since the night she returned home from the Englisch world. How had she not seen it before today? Was she out of control, a fool destroying her future because she needed to think outside the Amish box?

  “I’m sorry.” Tears filled her eyes.

  Rudy came close and put his hands on her arms. “Ariana.” His tender voice tugged at her, and she again heard Quill asking how Rudy was handling all that was going on with her.

  The answer broke her heart. Rudy was tired of it. He wanted the old Ariana back, the one he knew he could mold to his will after they were married. But that Ari was gone, and of all the people who bore fault in that, Rudy had none. She was dragging him places he didn’t want to go, and she couldn’t give him the one thing he wanted—the girl she used to be.

  “You’re right,” she whispered, unable to speak any louder.

  He’d been waiting for her to come back around to him, and excitement lit up his eyes. “Ya?”

  “You didn’t sign up for this,” she whispered and drew a deep breath, hoping to speak loud enough to be heard. “But somewhere along the line, I did, and”—she prayed for the strength to say it—“we aren’t going to work out. I’m sor—”

  “Nee.” He squeezed her shoulders, gently pulling her more upright. “I waited for you.”

  “I know.”

  “You love me.”

  “I absolutely do. But it’s not enough.” He was already tired, already growing resentful, and she’d just begun this journey. She wanted professors to speak at her café. She wanted to hire older teens and have open conversations about knowing themselves and not letting anyone corner them into something against their will simply because they’re female. She wanted to expand her café because it suited her. She was twenty, and she wanted to live free of the constraints he wanted to put on her.

  He released her. “You promised me! I asked you months ago if I was waiting for nothing, and you promised, Ariana.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought…I believed—”

  “Stop.” His fist came within inches of her as he slammed it into the column of the porch, and the building shook.

  She flinched and took a few steps back. His eyes, face, and body gave off differing emotions—raw, unfiltered hurt; uncontrollable anger; and humiliation. It was beyond what he could cope with.

  He cradled his injured hand, flinching in pain, and she wondered if he’d broken it. “Just get in the rig, Ariana.”

  “Rudy, I—”

  He pointed at the rig. “Don’t say another word to me. Just get in the rig!”

  Quill eased his car off the main road and onto the hidden path on his Mamm’s property. The police would consider his presence legitimate, but he doubted that would keep the ministers off his Mamm’s back if his car was parked in the open in broad daylight.

  This afternoon would be hard on his Mamm. She lost so much when Daed died, and recalling all the pieces that were woven into the stress during that time would be tough. Quill wasn’t here just to answer questions. He’d come to support his Mamm on behalf of all five sons.

  He got out of his car, opened the double-wide shed doors, pulled in, turned off the car, and closed the doors from the inside. He grabbed two brown bags from the car and then went out the small side door of the shed and followed the trail that kept him mostly hidden as he made his way to the house.

  He knew this path well. Two hundred steps to the end of the bramble and woods. Ten steps of open space before he was behind the long barn. At the end of the barn, he took another hundred steps until he was behind the cooperage. Once he was on the far side of that building, the back of the house hid him from view as he crossed the yard, climbed over the back of the wraparound porch, and tapped on his bedroom window before opening it and climbing inside.

  Good thing his Mamm wasn’t jumpy. It didn’t bother her to live alone, although she would be happier if Ariana moved in. But year in and year out, Mamm tended her laying hens, gardened, sewed, and turned a nice profit from each task. Like him, her energy and sense of balance were restored through solitude.

  “Quill?” Mamm opened the bedroom door. “I thought you’d come through the front door this time.”

  “I considered it.” He set the bags on his bed.

  “You’re still watching out for me.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. Her head came to the middle of his chest. Funny how tall and strong she’d felt to him when he was a kid, and now she seemed small and vulnerable.

  “My brothers and I feel we’ve caused you enough trouble to last a lifetime. It’s not a problem to be careful even today.”

  When she released him, he picked up the bags. “Food.” He grinned, and they went down the hall to the kitchen. “I’ll make dinner for us. Grilled pork chops, roasted potatoes, salad, and garlic bread.” He set the bags on the table and noticed her kitchen was messy and her hair wasn’t pinned up properly. Neither of those things were like her. “How are you holding up?”

  “What do you think they want?”

  He pulled the items out of one bag and set them on the counter. “All I know is what Ariana texted. The original report Daed filed about Frieda was lost when the agency went to a new computer system. The police were alerted to that recently, and a detective is following up. I know less than nothing when it comes to police matters, so anything I could tell you would be speculation. But he’ll ask some questions, and we’ll answer.”

  “How do you think they were alerted to it?”

  “I’m wondering the same thing.” He began emptying the second bag.

  “Maybe they want to know why no one followed up after filing the complaint. Is that our responsibility?”

  “I don�
�t think so.”

  “Your Daed died and we…coped.”

  “It’ll be fine, Mamm.” At least he thought it would. Only time would tell for sure. He pulled two jigsaw puzzles out of the bag and shook them. “Monet. Your favorite. I’ve got Garden at Giverny and A Pathway in Monet’s Garden. A thousand pieces each.” He held them out. “Which one will you open first?” Whichever one she chose, they would just start it today. She would only work on it with one of her sons or Ariana. It could be a month or even several months before it was completed, but when it was done, she’d frame it and hang it in the attic as a visual reminder of the time she had with her family.

  She took them and looked at the pictures. “This one.”

  “Exactly the one I thought you’d choose. I expect it to be done by tomorrow morning.”

  She tapped the box against his shoulder. “You’re funny.” She removed a knife from the block and opened the box.

  He put the potatoes in the sink and turned on the water. “Frieda hopes she doesn’t need to answer anything tonight, but she’s keeping her phone close in case I call her.”

  “Good idea.” She dumped out the pieces and spread them across the table.

  “What about Ariana? Big plans on a Saturday afternoon? Or do you think she’ll drop by?”

  Mamm began turning all the pieces face up. “She came by this morning. Seemed a bit out of sorts.”

  He turned off the water. “Is she under the weather or under stress?”

  “She didn’t say. Acted fine. Smiled. Talked normally. Maybe she had a headache.”

  “You say that as if she’s prone to headaches. She never has been. Has she been having them since that tree fell and she was hit with some limbs?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  Mamm was being vague. He wanted to text Ariana, but he wouldn’t. They hadn’t shared a text in nearly a month—until she asked for the Millers’ address. And he doubted she would check on his Mamm about the detective’s visit until Quill was gone. It’s the way things were, the way they would be from here on out. No texting. No talking. No accidentally bumping into each other at Mamm’s.

  He prepared dinner, and they chatted about nothing until the meal was over. When Mamm rose to clean up, he decided to text Nicholas to see how he was. It’d been very helpful for Nicholas to turn in the rental and take Ariana home. Quill hadn’t texted him since the night Ariana arrived at Nicholas’s.

  Nicholas immediately responded.

  Good. Still driving a rental. Looking at new cars, but the check from the insurance company hasn’t arrived yet. How’s Ariana feeling? You’re back now, right? Make sure she takes it easy. Concussions aren’t to be messed with.

  Quill looked at his Mamm. “Ariana has a concussion?”

  Mamm paused. “She didn’t want you to know about that.”

  He held up his phone. “But now I do. Apparently she and Nicholas were in a wreck.”

  “Ya, on the highway not more than ten miles from home.”

  His heart ached for what this meant. “So everyone in the community knows she was with Nicholas?”

  “They do now. No one saw them together, but things happened in a way that caused the ministers to ask questions.”

  “What else do the ministers know?”

  “They don’t know she was with you. The only people who know are the ones she told—her parents and Rudy.”

  “That’ll help some. On a scale of one to ten, how bad has the backlash been?”

  “Isaac has had a change of heart, and he is standing between her and the ministers. Last I heard he’s trying to mediate and find peace without giving in to them or coming down on Ariana.”

  “That may be the most surprising thing I hear today. Hasn’t he heeded everything the ministers have wanted his whole life?”

  “Every single thing, his whole life. But something odd happened to him that Sunday. He and Lovina were restless during the service. I could see it on their faces. Then he walked out of the Sunday meeting and was out of sight. Not too much time passed before Lovina left too. Then, maybe ten or fifteen minutes later, I saw him running down the road while we were singing the last hymn, with Lovina lagging behind. They went out of sight for a bit. Next I saw, he and Lovina had Ariana with them, and they got in their rig and left, didn’t come back in or have the meal. No one saw any more than the back of Ariana, so I didn’t know her face was bruised until the next day.”

  This was great news. Her Daed being on her side would mean so much to Ariana. She’d be encouraged and strengthened in every way. “And she wanted to keep the accident from me?”

  “If the tables were turned, you would’ve wanted the same.”

  “I don’t disagree.” He didn’t like that it’d happened, but Ari had spared him being worried, and he appreciated that. Getting Gia and the children settled had taken almost two weeks, and he’d been working overtime since flying back home.

  “You’re calmer about this than I would’ve expected.”

  “I agree. It just feels as if Ariana was where she needed to be, doing what she needed to do in helping with Gia, and I can’t try to protect her from that. But maybe you or she could tell me when things happen. Not knowing kept me from worrying this time, but now I’ll wonder what all is going on that I’m not being told about.”

  “You and I have zero leverage for the rest of our lives to lecture her about keeping secrets to protect someone and zero right to insist she tell us if she doesn’t want to.”

  “But she’s fully okay?”

  “Nicholas had her checked at a hospital, so, ya. And she’s healing quickly.”

  “Then I’m sure she’s fine.”

  While he washed dishes, Mamm got a shower and fixed her hair. Then they settled in front of the puzzle and began piecing the frame together.

  “Knock, knock, knock,” Ari called out.

  She’d come, and Quill was glad, regardless of how Rudy would feel about it.

  Mamm moved to the front door and unlocked it.

  Ariana stepped in. “A new recipe for fudge and an old one for chocolate croissants.”

  Quill’s heart palpitated, and two things hit immediately. He was lying to himself that he could be cool with the fact that she’d been in a wreck. It would nag at him for a very long time. And Ariana’s presence felt heavy, a kind of dark weight he hadn’t sensed in years. She hugged Mamm.

  She glanced his way and held up the plate. “Knowing you’d be here was the perfect time to try a new recipe. Unlike Mikey, whoever he is, you’ll eat anything I make.”

  “You trained me. It was my only way to keep you from tattling to Mamm that I was mean to you,” he teased.

  “Ya, ya, ya.” She plunked the plate on the puzzle pieces in front of him.

  “Do I have to?” he asked.

  “Nee.” She swooped up the plate.

  “Wait.” He stood. “It was just a question.” He held out his hand. “I’ll take that.”

  She gave it to him, but he shifted to catch a glimpse of her eyes. Immediately she turned, removing her satchel and peeling out of her coat.

  She had waltzed in talking and acting as if everything was normal, but Mamm was right. Something was off.

  Quill picked up a puzzle piece.

  Ariana pulled something out of the satchel. “I brought decaf. Should I make a pot?”

  “Please.” Mamm tugged at her apron. “I’m not sure the apron I put on was a clean one. I’ll be back.”

  Was Mamm giving them a minute to talk? Ariana went to the kitchen counter.

  Quill ate a small piece of fudge and leaned against the counter beside her, facing out as she faced in. There were yellow patches on her face where the bruises were healing. “You’re healing well.”

  She nodded. “I am.”

  “No surprise that I know?”

  “It was bound to happen. Have I ever managed to keep a secret from you?”

  “I’m not sure I’d know the answer to that.”

 
She prepared the percolator, set it on the stove, and turned on the eye before returning to wipe coffee grounds off the counter.

  “No chuckle at my humor?”

  She laughed, and he was surprised how real it sounded when it clearly wasn’t.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Sure. Absolutely.” She looked up, a smile in place. “How are you?”

  “Is this how it goes?”

  Her forced smile melted, and she came within a few inches of him. “Ya, it is.” Underneath her effort to signal she was fine, he saw raw pain. “Please,” she whispered.

  And just like that, his heart ached for no other reason than hers did. “Sure.” He returned to the puzzle table and sat down. “Mamm,”—he raised his voice—“you have a few pieces still left to put in this puzzle.”

  “Ya, about nine hundred and ninety-five,” Mamm called back. “Be there in a minute.”

  Ariana eased into a chair across from him and began searching for pieces. It was all he could do to keep himself from asking the reason for her sadness and how he could help.

  Something moving outside caught his eye through the kitchen window, and he expected it to be the detective, but it was a horse and carriage.

  “Rudy’s here.” Quill searched her face for concern, but instead he saw sadness etched across her beautiful face.

  Ariana rose and grabbed her coat from the closet. Rudy was getting out of his carriage when she came out the front door. His shoulders were slumped, and he had a cast on his right hand.

  He looked like she felt—broken.

  They had been so in love that they dreamed of uniting in a lifelong bond, of being each other’s world for the rest of their lives. They’d wanted to have children together. And now…

  What had happened? Whatever took place yesterday evening at the Steele place wasn’t what broke them. He wanted peace to reign in his home through obedience to the Old Ways, and she wanted freedom according to Galatians: “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” Somehow for them in this Old Order time and place, those two needs were opposed to each other, and they could not pursue both simultaneously.