by Nancy Mehl
“I think this is the most extraordinary house I’ve ever seen,” I said. “Where did it come from? I mean, it’s different from any other home around here.”
After I hopped down, Sam shut the truck door behind me. “This house has an interesting history. A man who owned most of the land in this area built it in the late 1800s. When a group of German Mennonites began to buy nearby plots, he fought to drive them out. But in the end, he converted to their ways. Gave away a lot of his land to the settlers. When he died, he left the rest of it, along with his house, to the community.”
“How did you and um ... Sweetie end up with it?”
Sam chuckled at hearing me finally use his aunt’s nickname. “Well, these simple people weren’t quite sure what to do with a house like this. They couldn’t see it as a church building, and no one wanted to move into it. It sat empty for many years. Believe it or not, eventually Amil Angstadt used it as his parsonage.”
I snorted. “Now that is hard to believe. I thought he was so rigid and uncompromising. Surely he would have seen this house as ostentatious.”
He grunted. “I’ve found that judgmental people generally are more focused on other people than they are on themselves. Goes back to that ‘board in your own eye’ thing Jesus talked about. Angstadt found a way to accept something for himself that he never would have allowed for folks in his congregation.”
I nodded my agreement with his assessment. I’d known a few people whose lives were caught up in trying to decide what was right or wrong for everyone else. On the Internet I’d even stumbled across Web sites totally devoted to judging different ministries. They were disturbing to say the least and always left me feeling as if I needed a shower.
“So how did you end up with it?”
“Well, when Angstadt died, the church elders were left to decide what to do with the remaining congregation. Some members left the church altogether, happy to be out from underneath his thumb. Harmony Church was started by ex-members of Angstadt’s group who wanted a fresh start.” He shrugged. “I think even folks who were close to Angstadt were glad to have the chance to begin again. Those who remained wanted nothing to do with his house. My aunt was a young woman then. She and her father owned one of the few non-Mennonite farms in the area. My grandmother died when Sweetie and my mother were pretty young. Her father, my grandfather, was severely injured when his tractor flipped in the field one day. Sweetie spent about a year trying to run their farm alone while she cared for him. Eventually he died. Sweetie sold their farm and bought this house and the land. It took almost every penny she had. With the little that was left, she began planting fruit trees and berry patches. Over time, this place became very productive.”
“But hard for one person to run.”
Sam nodded. “I came to live with her just in time. Together I think we’ve done a pretty good job.” He cocked his head toward the house. “Now, let’s get inside before I end up being the main course at supper.”
We were almost to the front porch when the screen door flew open and Sweetie stepped out waving a big spoon at us. “Well, it’s about time,” she screeched. “Didn’t I say six o’clock?” She turned around and went back inside, the door slamming behind her. We could hear her mumbling something about learning to tell time.
Sam looked at his watch. “It’s four minutes past six.” He shook his head. “Sweetie takes being on time very seriously. Unless she’s late.”
“Wow. I’m sorry we upset her. Should we apologize?”
He chuckled. “I guarantee you that by the time we start eating, she will have forgotten all about it. Don’t worry about her. She never stays mad for long.”
I noticed a black and silver Suburban parked in the driveway. “Is that Levi’s car?”
“Yep. Which means we’d better get inside before Sweetie puts the food on the table. Levi can shovel it down faster than almost anyone I know.”
I hesitated for a moment. Standing on Sam’s porch, I felt safe for the first time since I’d found the letter. An almost overwhelming desire had been building in me all day. I had the urge to grab Sam by the arm and tell him everything—the whole truth. I desperately wanted an ally, someone I could trust. But I still had doubts running through my mind. Benjamin had kept this secret for thirty years, and here I was ready to blurt out the truth after only a day. And I didn’t really know Sam that well. What if he decided to take things into his own hands? What if he insisted on calling the authorities? Could I really risk my dad’s future with someone who didn’t know him or care about him the way I did? That little bit of doubt forced me to shove the whole situation to the back of my mind, where it sat like an uncomfortable ache, waiting to turn into a full-scale migraine. I prayed that by the time supper was over, I’d know what to do.
Sam led me through a wonderful wood-paneled entry hall and into the dining room. The furniture was gorgeous—and certainly not what I’d anticipated from Sweetie. The walls had been painted a lovely shade of deep red with white wainscoting almost halfway up. Crown molding accented the ceilings. Long windows let in plenty of light, overpowering the soft glow from the brass chandelier that hung over the table. The furniture in the room perfectly fit the Victorian styling. A massive Victorian sideboard sat against one wall. It matched the mahogany dining-room table and chairs.
I was so stunned I froze in my tracks.
“Not quite what you expected from a couple of hick farmers, huh?” he whispered in my ear.
“I don’t think you’re a hick farmer,” I hissed back. “But where...?”
“Some of the furniture came with the house, but the lion’s share of the decorating was done by my aunt. She’s spent years trying to bring back the original style of the house.”
A gentle push sent me toward the table where Levi sat waiting. I could hear Sweetie rummaging around in the kitchen. I sat down in the chair Sam pointed to and smiled at Levi.
“Quite a place isn’t it?” he said. “I’ve watched it change little by little over the years, but I’m still impressed every time I come here.”
I made a mental note to remind myself about not judging a book by its cover. I’d certainly done that with Sweetie—or Myrtle—or whoever she was. One thing I knew: There was a lot more to this woman than a loud voice, coarse mannerisms, and a nosy attitude.
Sam said something about helping his aunt bring in the food and disappeared. Levi and I made small talk about the weather for a few minutes before they came back carrying a large platter of fried chicken and bowls of mashed potatoes and creamed corn. Another trip to the kitchen resulted in big, fluffy rolls straight from the oven, along with strawberry preserves and a bowl of homemade applesauce. Levi’s face lit up when he saw it.
I sipped my delicious brewed iced tea until everyone sat down. Sam said grace and then began to pass plates of food around the table. I quickly discovered that Sweetie was more than a crack decorator; she could hold her own in the kitchen as well. Her flaky fried chicken had a buttery taste along with just a hint of spice. I had to admit that she may have even surpassed Mama Essie’s skill in chicken frying. In fact, she could give the Colonel a big run for his money. And the applesauce had so much flavor I had no desire to sample the canned variety ever again. Levi filled his bowl with the flavorful sauce.
“So, Gracie, what do you think of Harmony so far?” Levi asked. “I hope your little run-in with Gabriel Ketterling hasn’t soured you on the whole town.”
I swallowed a scrumptious mouthful of mashed potatoes and gravy. “No, not at all. I like almost everyone I’ve met. Sam introduced me to Ida Turnbauer right before we arrived here. She’s a lovely woman. Nothing like Gabriel.”
“So that’s why you’re late for supper,” Sweetie said, glaring at Sam. “I swear, boy, you can’t get from A to B without a few Cs and Ds thrown in, can you?” She shook her head, but I caught the hint of the smile she tried to cover up by holding a chicken leg up to her mouth. Her love for her nephew was obvious.
Sam held
up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry, Sweetie.” He looked at Levi and me with a big goofy grin on his face. “I take after my aunt. I just can’t keep my nose out of other people’s business.”
Sweetie’s face turned pink. “I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about. I don’t go stickin’ my nose where it don’t belong. Goodness gracious.”
Levi chuckled. “Now Myrtle. You and I may not be churchgoing folks, but I know a whopper when I hear it. You need to repent to these two young people right now.”
Sam and I laughed, and after a few feeble attempts to defend herself, Sweetie gave up and joined in.
“Okay, okay,” she sputtered as the laughter wound down, “I guess I am a little interested in what goes on ’round here.” She wiped her eyes. “My mama said I was a curious child, and I seem to have grown up into a powerful curious adult.”
“Curious being a nicer word than nosy?” Sam asked with a wink.
She shook her head. “You’d better watch it, boy. I got apple pie in my kitchen, and it ain’t gonna shake hands with your gullet if you don’t knock it off.”
“My abject apologies for casting aspersions on your veracity,” Sam said mockingly.
Sweetie looked at me, her face screwed up into a frown. “I got no idea what he’s talkin’ about sometimes, but I know I heard somethin’ like an apology in that mess, didn’t you?”
I nodded my agreement. “It didn’t make sense to me either, but I think it’s safe to assume he’s sorry.”
“Well, in that case, I guess you can have pie—after you finish your supper,” she said to Sam.
“That won’t be a problem.” He loaded up his fork with potatoes. “As usual, you’ve outdone yourself, dear aunt.”
“Yes, this is absolutely delicious,” I said. “You’re a terrific cook.”
Sweetie blushed again and mumbled something about people bein’ silly, but I could tell she was pleased.
Levi had just started to tell me some of Harmony’s history when there was a loud, insistent knock on the front door.
“Now, who in the world would come botherin’ folks at suppertime?” Sweetie sputtered as she got up from her chair.
I guess the idea of visiting neighbors whenever you felt like it actually did have some rules attached: Never drop by during supper.
We could hear Sweetie open the front door and say something to whoever was outside. Then the door closed and footsteps neared the dining room. Sweetie came into the room followed by Ruth Wickham. Her normally red face was a couple of shades darker than usual.
“Ruth’s got somethin’ important to say to us,” Sweetie said. Her expression made it plain she still wasn’t happy about her meal being interrupted.
Ruth stepped up next to the table, wringing her hands.
“Why, Ruth,” Levi said. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”
She nodded. “I–I’m not in the habit of accusing anyone of stealing,” she said haltingly. “But as hard as it is, I have no choice.”
“Stealing?” Sam said. “What in the world are you talking about, Ruth? What’s been stolen?”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “My—my chestnut vase is gone. I’m—I’m sorry, Sam. But as far as I know, there was only one person who could have possibly taken it.”
To my horror, she fastened her gaze on me. “Gracie Temple, you give me back my vase. Right now.”
Chapter Nine
“I’m really sorry about this,” Sam said again.
We were seated in the living room. It was as beautifully decorated as the dining room with the same crimson walls and white wainscoting that matched the fireplace mantel. But I couldn’t focus on the decor. I was far too upset.
Sam sat across from me on a plush brocade love seat that matched the couch where I waited to be exonerated. I’d told Ruth she could search Benjamin’s house and my car if it made her feel better and had given her my keys. Levi had gone with her.
“It’s not your fault,” I said. We were beginning to repeat ourselves. Sam had apologized, and I’d assured him he wasn’t to blame at least four different times.
“When they don’t find anything, Ruth will acknowledge her mistake and everything will be back to normal.” His eyes kept darting from me to the hallway that led to the front door.
I didn’t respond. It would never be “back to normal,” whatever that was. My previous feelings of being charmed by Harmony and its residents had vanished like smoke in the wind. I was sorry about Ruth’s chestnut vase, but I had the distinct impression that I was her prime suspect because I didn’t live here. I’d only been accused of stealing one other time in my life. That was when a girl in high school told several people I took her favorite CD. When she found it in her boyfriend’s locker, she didn’t even bother to tell me she was sorry she’d accused me. But I made sure everyone who knew me found out the truth. I only learned when I got older that it would have been better to keep silent about it, letting God be my defense.
I realized that I needed to do that now, so I quietly put the situation in His hands. There was nothing I could do about it anyway. The truth is, people believe whatever they want no matter how much we try to defend ourselves. I looked over at Sam. His dark brown shirt made his sun-bleached hair look almost white. He flashed me a quick smile that I’m sure was supposed to comfort me, but I related more to the nervous tapping of his left boot on the hardwood floor. The sound stopped suddenly, and I looked up to see his eyes fastened on mine. Something that felt like electricity traveled up my spine.
“I didn’t take it, you know,” popped out of my mouth before I could stop it.
His eyes widened. “There was never any question in my mind, Grace.”
“But you didn’t see what was in my sack when I left Ruth’s.”
“It wouldn’t have made any difference. I know you’re not a thief. But you might be interested to know that I actually did look inside your bag. It’s just like the one from the hardware store. I mixed them up when I went looking for the lamps after we got back to your place. Believe me, if the chestnut vase had been there, I would have seen it.”
I felt a quick stab of relief. At least one person knew I was innocent. I felt certain Ruth had already tried, convicted, and sentenced me. I didn’t think she was intentionally trying to frame me, but I had to admit that having Levi go with her made me feel more comfortable.
I looked at my watch. “They’ve been gone a long time.”
“It’s only been about thirty minutes. It’s taking longer because they can’t find anything.”
The clatter of dishes from the kitchen highlighted another problem. Sweetie was fit to be tied. Her supper had been ruined. Was she angry with Ruth—or with me? With Sweetie it was hard to tell.
The sound of a car door slamming told us that Ruth and Levi had returned. I waited for them to come inside and tell me they’d found nothing—followed by an effusive apology from Ruth. But no one entered the house. A moment later we heard a second car door slam, followed by the sound of someone starting up a vehicle and driving away.
“What’s going on?” I asked Sam.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” He’d just stood to his feet when the front door creaked open and we heard the sound of footsteps in the hall. Levi walked into the room, and the expression on his face made my heart sink so low it felt like it hit my shoes.
“What’s going on, Levi?” I hated the squeaky sound my voice made, but I couldn’t seem to control it.
He came over and sat down next to me, taking my hands in his. “Gracie, we—we found the vase in your basement. It was in a trunk, hidden under some old quilts.”
I tried to say something but didn’t seem able to form anything coherent. All that came out of my mouth was “But ... but ... but...” I looked over at Sam, whose mouth hung open—the color drained from his face.
Levi squeezed my hands. “Ruth isn’t going to press charges. Folks in Harmony don’t call the authorities very often. We like to
handle these things ourselves. But she did ask that you stay out of her store from now on.”
After another squeeze, he got up and walked toward the entryway. At the doorway he stopped and looked back at me.
“Gracie, Ruth isn’t angry with you. You’ll find that most people in Harmony are very forgiving. We work hard to deserve our name.” He shook his head. “I must admit that I find it hard to understand how this happened. You certainly don’t seem like the kind of person who would take something that doesn’t belong to you. Whatever’s going on, I want you to know that I’m here for you. If I can do anything to help you—anything at all—you come see me. Anytime, night or day.” With that, he turned and left the room. A few seconds later we heard the front door close.
