“Go ahead,” she said. “Take a look.”
Frightened almost of what he might uncover, especially after everything she had confessed to him, he unfolded the paper. His lower lip drooped. He ogled the paper and then turned his gaze to Elisabeth.
“Did you do this?” he asked under his breath.
“Ya,” Elisabeth said, grinning. “I drew it Christmas Eve by lantern. I was up late alone. I couldn’t help it. I hope you’re not angry.”
“No, no.” Daniel shook his head, his mind muddled. He stared at the drawing, powerless to comprehend what he beheld.
A portrait of him and Aiden.
The ministers had decreed drawing the faces of people haughty, yet his eyes fixed on the portrait. Elisabeth’s talent was evident. She had represented Aiden near perfectly. Although she had used graphite pencil, he almost detected the sparkle of Aiden’s honey-brown eyes. And his own image looked… well, happy.
She had captured Daniel smiling. His nose aloft, his expression declaring he owned the world.
“But why?” he said, finally looking into Elisabeth’s glossy eyes.
“I planned on giving it to Aiden,” she said. “For a Christmas present. But he left before I could. Perhaps you’ll give it to him for me when you see him again?”
Daniel’s mind rolled. Did she believe he and Aiden were a couple, like Mark and Heidi? Or had she merely drawn a portrait of two friends, two people she admired? Daniel folded the portrait in quarters, as if the paper were made of the most fragile parchment, and carefully stowed it in his front pants pocket.
“Danke,” he muttered, at a loss for proper words. “I… I’ll make sure he gets it.”
The front door opened. A moment later, David came into the kitchen. He stopped, looked at Elisabeth, shifted his gaze to Daniel. His face distorted with anger, he stomped back out the door.
“Enough of this for now,” Daniel said. He came around the table and kissed Elisabeth lightly on her cheek. Her grin proved she cherished such an atypical gesture from her brother. Daniel figured it was the proper thing to do, considering.
“I best see if I can patch things up with that boy,” he said, and followed David out the door.
Dozens of footprints in the snow went off in multiple directions from the front stoop. But David was nowhere to be seen. The barn stood empty, as did the buggy shed and henhouse. In a way, Daniel was relieved. He had little energy to deal with any more family drama. He found his feet carrying him away, down the lane, his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his jacket and his head hung with fret.
Elisabeth raped? Too much to digest. For six years she’d locked that horrible secret inside of her, never confiding in a soul. Why had she opted to tell him now?
A minister had violated her. A minister like Reverend Yoder. Heat traveled along his neck and into his cheeks. He made fists inside his pockets. Reverend Yoder had killed his own son, another one had raped his sister, and now they were accusing him—him—of going against his promise to the church, threatening him with the shunning.
Such hypocrites, all of them.
He visualized the portrait Elisabeth had drawn of him and Aiden, tucked in his pants pocket. Elisabeth had captured the essence of the plucky Englishman. Had she captured Daniel accurately too? He’d looked so content with his face mere inches from Aiden’s.
He shook his head. His worries seemed pale in comparison to what his sister had endured. He was glad, at least, that she had found peace. He supposed in some way the incident was part of God’s will. Who was he to question otherwise?
He had walked a good few miles, and, looking up, he found he had crossed a thin strip of woods and onto unknown farmland. Gazing around at the blanket of snow, he suddenly recognized the white farmhouse in the distance. He had trespassed onto the property of Reverend Yoder.
Chapter Twenty-One
HE TROD steadfastly toward the Yoder farmhouse. Resentment boiled up inside him. Maybe he should wait for his mood to temper. But perhaps now was the perfect time. He needed some kind of release over the entire Kyle incident. If for any reason, as a gift to Elisabeth. As a gift to Aiden. The ministers would cross him sooner or later. Who better than he to initiate the confrontation and get the ordeal over with?
As he stomped through the snowy field, he wondered if he had come to the Yoder farm subconsciously. Or perhaps the hand of God had guided him there for a purpose. Harnessing a surge of assurance, he stepped onto the compacted snow of the driveway when Reverend Yoder appeared out of the barn.
They narrowed their eyes at each other. Daniel had no concern about pretenses now. He looked past the reverend’s shoulder toward the barn, the same barn in which the reverend had said he’d discovered his son’s hanging body. He wanted to inspect the barn himself, like Aiden had more than a year ago. But for what purpose? Reverend Yoder had killed Kyle and hanged him like curing meat. No time for formalities. What Daniel had to say to him would be short. Short and sharp like a hunting knife.
Reverend Yoder approached closer. His black felt hat failed to conceal his razor-sharp blue eyes.
“What is it that brings you here?” He spoke in Pennsylvania German, his voice penetrating like his eyes, harsh, without nonsense. Looking into the reverend’s cold face, Daniel had no doubt long resentments had simmered between them. Hostilities lingered, as real as the snow under their boots. Daniel held firm, resisting the urge to march off in the direction from which he’d come.
“He that is without sin among you, let him cast a stone at her,” Daniel said in High German, quoting from Scripture.
“Are you here to give me a Bible lesson, Daniel Schrock?”
“I’m only stating a much overlooked proverb,” Daniel said in English, staring at him fixedly.
“You, the one who does not even attend the gmays back in Rose Crossing? You, the one who is on the threshold of being shunned? Concerned with proverbs?” Reverend Yoder snorted. Steam from his nostrils shot into the air. He gazed straight at Daniel.
“You been judging me for near ten years, Reverend,” Daniel said. “The time has come for me to judge you.”
“Suddenly you’re bold,” the reverend said, reverting to English like Daniel. “What brings this on?”
The minister who had molested Elisabeth would go through life without recourse for his crime. God would judge him in the afterlife. But for Reverend Yoder, Daniel wanted some justice in this lifetime for what he had done to Kyle and Aiden. “It’s not boldness that makes me speak,” he said, “it’s truth that carries me.”
“Truth? What do you know about truth?”
“Not a lot, not a lot at all, but I’m learning. I learned you can’t keep lies buried, for they will well up like groundwater and drown you. Do you ever feel like that, Reverend? Like you’ll drown in your own lies?”
“What are you going on about, Schrock? I have choring to do here.” He was about to head back for the barn when Daniel stopped him.
“You’ll hear me out.”
Reverend Yoder faced Daniel. Fine lines cut across his sagging skin and pulled around his piercing eyes. He had aged the past ten years, Daniel noted. Aged far quicker than any other man in the community. Years of bearing a heavy crime could leave one weary and old before one’s time. Only his eyes remained bright. Yet they were not cheery—they shone more like torches.
“Don’t you use such an insolent tone with me, Daniel Schrock. I’m your minister, elected into office, even though I did not want the position. I served this community well, for twelve years now, when I’d rather be fishing in Montana like you. Some of us are not so selfish.”
“You’re no longer my minister. I can speak as freely as I wish.”
The reverend remained silent, calculating. “Then why don’t you,” he said. “Instead of playing shussly games, speak freely, Daniel Schrock. Go ahead. I’m listening. You got my full attention.”
“I know about you, what you did. It’s no mystery anymore.”
Reverend Yoder st
irred, his cheeks puffed out above his straggly white beard. Daniel went on speaking, holding himself steady. His fists clenched and unclenched as he formed each word, words that had been fermenting inside his mind for many months.
“You threatened Aiden Cermak, leaving him those horrible messages, spray painted his door with threats, threw a pumpkin at his home.”
Reverend Yoder chuckled. “I did no such thing. How absurd. And why would I do that?”
“To keep him from revealing the truth.”
“There you go with that truth again. Seems to me you have as much to hide as me. Perhaps you’re the one who threatened Aiden Cermak. I know about your secrets too, Daniel Schrock.”
The reverend’s words stilled Daniel. He floundered over the snow, as if he had been struck against the forehead with a wood plank. The sound of the snow settling filled the gap of silence. They eyed each other. Reverend Yoder’s chapped lips puckered, ready to spew Daniel with words. Daniel regrouped his thoughts, determined to be the first to strike and carry the altercation to its finality.
“We both know you walked in on me and Kyle.” Daniel nodded toward the barn where Kyle Yoder’s body had hanged from the highest rafter. “After you saw us, you and Kyle had an altercation, and something horrible happened, didn’t it, Reverend?”
Steam shot from between Reverend Yoder’s clenched teeth. “What kind of thoughts rankle that head of yours, you and that Englisher? You’re living like bandits out in the woods with nothing but your fantasies. I feel sorry for you.”
“It’s true what I said, admit it.”
“I admit what you did with Kyle made the eyes of God burn with anguish. I never been so shocked. But that’s all there is to admit.”
Daniel chewed his lower lip. Angered by the reverend’s tactics, he would not allow him to spoil his long-dreamed-of confrontation. Even his piercing blues failed to sway Daniel.
“You killed your son,” he blurted. “You struck him on the head and he died. Then you hung him up, hung him up like he was nothing but deer kill, to make his death look like a suicide.”
“How do you get so impertinent?” the reverend said. “Such vile accusations you utter, and while you trespass on my property.”
Resisting the urge to back off, run and hide, Daniel shot back. “I know why you never called me out before any of the gmays after all these years, Reverend. I know you were only looking to protect yourself from your crime.”
“Yes, I’ll admit it was to protect myself,” the reverend spat. “But not for the vile actions you accuse me of. I would never fend off one sin with another out of spite. Especially not against my own son. I kept my mouth sealed all these years to protect the reputation of my family. And yes, I’ll admit, to protect my own. I would not have our name sullied merely because of your sins. Even God must stand by my silence. No one in my family deserves such punishment. We’re not the ones who transgressed against da Hah. That sin is for you to face.”
“I don’t believe you. We have too much evidence against you.”
A semi-trailer careened down the nearby lane, its engine brake grinding. Once the jarring noise receded, Reverend Yoder raised his head and peered at Daniel.
“I battled to put God back into him,” he said. “I prayed with him hours each day after I saw the two of you. We’d get on our knees and beg God to forgive him, forgive us both. I thought I reached him. But then….” Reverend Yoder dropped his head, his hoary beard dangling past his pants flap. “Then I… I found him hanging in the barn.” He shot blue fire at Daniel. “It’s what you did to him. You corrupted him; you led him astray.”
Shame burned Daniel’s cheeks. For many years he had blamed himself for Kyle’s death. Whether he had killed himself or had been murdered, none of it had made a difference to Daniel. But Aiden had convinced him he should no longer hold himself responsible. A new surge of fault scored into him. He wrestled against the old remorse. He would not allow the reverend to win.
Boldness overtook him. “What we did, Kyle and me, it wasn’t so vile,” Daniel said. “It’s not so uncommon, not even here in Henry, in Amish Country. What was it you really feared when you spied your own son kissing another man, Cousin Amos? Did seeing us together make you feel things you wished you hadn’t? Did you see something of yourself in us?”
A strange, wry smile curled Reverend Yoder’s lips. “Go back to Montana, Schrock,” he said. “Go back and hide in the mountains. Go live with your bears and buffalo.” He turned his back on Daniel and strolled back inside the barn.
Like that, the confrontation ended. Standing alone in the driveway, Daniel suddenly felt exposed. He’d had his say. Now no reason remained for him to stand on that alien land belonging to Reverend Yoder.
He turned to leave, trudging down the lane. Not until he was halfway home did he realize he was still trembling. He had actually confronted Reverend Yoder, dug up every sordid detail buried for nearly ten years, and had tossed it in his face like a fistful of dirt.
Yet satisfaction eluded him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
HE WAS unsure how long he’d been asleep when he opened his eyes to the dull eggshell ceiling. An itchy haze wrapped around his head. Chill nipped at him. Scant heat flowed through the floor vents from the kitchen. Probably the first time in weeks the ovens had gone cold.
His head ached. Was it the same day? Outside, the sun still struggled to burn through the slate-gray clouds. Another snowfall would come at any time. Groggy, he glanced at the alarm clock atop the night table. Almost two o’clock. He had slept a good hour.
He caught sight of his reflection in the clock’s glass face. He touched his beard. Still Amish looking.
He sat up, scratching his head. What had happened earlier that morning? Something unpleasant, surreal almost.
Jagged claws clamped onto his brain.
Elisabeth’s confession.
After all this time, she’d explained why she had never courted. Why she had never married. She had been blunt. A visiting minister had raped her. Violated her while she had chored in the barn. Although she had seemed content, happy even—God’s will, she’d said—her confession had hollowed Daniel.
As he struggled to accept her words, to look on the bright side, that he and Elisabeth had shared a moment of closeness and she’d made the most of her ordeal, another recollection from earlier that day awoke inside him.
His confrontation with Reverend Yoder.
The reverend’s defenses had come across too frankly. Daniel had seen the honesty in his horribly piercing blue eyes.
Reverend Yoder had been telling the truth. He had not killed his son and staged his death to look like a suicide.
Reluctantly, Daniel admitted that he and Aiden had been wrong about the reverend the whole time.
Even worse, Kyle had committed suicide. And because of one little kiss shared between two close friends who sought to become closer. Perhaps Daniel should blame himself for Kyle’s death, after all.
He pulled the quilt over his chest, as if to conceal his sins from the world. Had his confrontation with Reverend Yoder sealed his fate? Or would the reverend go on, the way he had for nearly ten years, pretending nothing had ever happened? Concerned with his and his family’s reputations? As he watched the sky churn with gray clouds, he wondered if everything had all unfolded the way it had for any good reason.
But a far larger worry grated on his mind. If Kyle had committed suicide, then who had threatened Aiden last autumn? And what for?
He withdrew the portrait Elisabeth had drawn of him and Aiden from his pants pocket. She had captured Aiden flawlessly—the curly hair, the curve of his lips, like rose petals. But she had drawn Daniel full of joy. Lately, he hadn’t viewed himself so cheerfully.
Should he call Aiden again? Any incentive drained from his fingertips. Aiden would refuse to answer, like all the other times. He had surrendered much of his world for Aiden Cermak. Now he was gone.
He pictured Aiden at Mark and Heidi’s weddi
ng. So handsome in his olive suit. During the reception, when they’d played slap-a-pig, watching him bent over the chair, Daniel had had to hold back a grunt of arousal. If not for his pacifist upbringing, he’d have belted the man who had swatted Aiden’s rear end. Heidi’s burly cousin looked like he had enjoyed it too. Daniel had not wanted to believe he was jealous. But the stingers of jealousy had pierced him nonetheless.
Many times he had wanted to embrace Aiden in front of everyone and flaunt him as his own. But how could he have? Too much was at risk to be so overconfident. Aiden had said he wanted to get married. Of course Daniel wanted to claim him. If Aiden wanted a wedding, Daniel had never really been that opposed to the notion, even if he did think it shussly. But there were other matters to consider.
Aiden had even once mentioned how he would like to have children. Either by adoption or surrogacy. Seemed gay couples from all over the world were coming to the United States to take advantage of the lax surrogacy laws. Aiden was serious enough to have written an article about it for the quarterly magazine, Surrogate Family. Daniel had learned after reading Aiden’s copy that California had been commercializing the practice for decades. Even some famous openly gay singer and his boyfriend Aiden had written about had their surrogate baby in California. Elton Something-or-other.
The idea seemed absurd at the time. Now, staring at the portrait of him and Aiden, he smiled at the idea. For sure he would be happy with little kinner running about. Aiden would make a wunderbar goot father. He had such a kind and understanding disposition.
Sighing, Daniel climbed out of bed and tucked the drawing in his suitcase. He grabbed for his cell phone from the night table and speed dialed the Amish mechanics. After ten rings, a man with a pleasant voice answered. He told Daniel the parts had arrived and that the truck would be ready by tomorrow morning. Daniel figured he could wait.
Between Two Promises Page 19
