by Nancy Mehl
“Ranger and Tonto? Like on The Lone Ranger?”
“You’re too young to remember that show,” he said with an amused grin.
“So are you.”
He ambled over to where Buddy and I stood waiting. “When I was a kid I watched reruns. I used to pretend the Lone Ranger was my father—and Tonto was a wise uncle I could go to when I needed advice.”
I stepped outside so Sam could close the barn door. Dusk was giving way to darkness. The light above the barn door created a safe, golden circle for Sam, Buddy, and me. I’d told Sam my secrets. Was it time to ask him to reveal his? I took a deep breath and dove in. “I hope you don’t think I’m being nosy, but where are your parents? Why do you live here with your aunt?”
“You’re not being nosy. It’s a natural question.” He leaned against the barn door and crossed his arms. “My mother died when I was young. I never knew my father. Sweetie is my mother’s only sister. She applied to be my guardian, and here I am.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be. Sweetie’s been a wonderful substitute parent. I had a great childhood, and there’s no other place I’d rather live than on this farm. I love Harmony and the people who live here.” He smiled at me, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Really, don’t feel sorry for me, Grace. I don’t.” He leaned down and petted Buddy on the head. “Now, let’s see what kind of mood Sweetie’s in. I swear, my belt buckle feels like it’s hitting my spine.”
I nodded and followed him and Buddy back to the house. I was glad I’d asked about his parents, but I’d noticed that he hadn’t told me how his mother had died or why he’d never known his father. Maybe I was splitting hairs. I guess he’d tell me when he was ready. Right now, Sweetie’s fried chicken and mashed potatoes called my name.
By the time we reached the porch, we could tell by the aroma that she had decided to have mercy on us. Sure enough, when we walked in the door, she yelled at us from the kitchen to “sit down at the table before I change my mind and throw this food in the trash.” A few minutes later, we were eating.
At first Sweetie didn’t say anything to me directly. She made sure I had some of everything on the table. After my second helping of mashed potatoes, she finally addressed me.
“So how do you imagine that silly vase of Ruth’s found its way to your place?” Her tone was sharp and confrontational, but there was no condemnation in her expression. I got the feeling she was testing me.
After swallowing the bite of biscuit and strawberry preserves in my mouth, I met her fixed gaze, refusing to look away. “I have no idea. Someone put it there, and I intend to find out why.”
After a brief staring contest, she lowered her eyes and nodded slowly. “Good for you. You might find it a little uncomfortable in town for a while, but sometimes you just gotta stand up straight and do whatcha gotta do. Backin’ down from a fight ain’t never the right way to go. You gotta face your adversaries with your head held high.”
“Sweetie, I want Grace to stay here with us,” Sam said. “Someone broke into Ben’s place and left that vase there to implicate her. It’s not safe.”
His tone didn’t invite discussion, and to my utter amazement, Sweetie didn’t offer any. The disagreeable look on her face was either due to my extended visit—or because she had indigestion. I couldn’t be sure, but to her credit she nodded.
“I’ll put clean sheets on the bed in the south bedroom.”
“Sw–Sweetie,” I said with a gulp, “did you see anyone at Benjamin’s house today while Sam and I were in town?” I patted myself mentally for finally spitting out the silly name.
She frowned so hard her two eyebrows became one. “What kind of a fool do you take me for?” she snapped. “If I’d seen someone snoopin’ around your house, don’t you think I woulda told you already? For cryin’ out loud...”
“Now, Sweetie,” Sam said in a soothing voice, “I intended to ask you the same question. Grace just got it out before I did. We’re not saying you’d forget to tell us if you saw someone. But sometimes we don’t realize until later how important some little detail might be in a situation like this.”
“Well, I didn’t see nothin’. I was workin’ today. Not gallivantin’ around town.”
“Thanks,” Sam said. “That’s all we needed to know. And thanks for this great supper. No one cooks the way you do. Not even Hector down at the café.”
Sweetie’s face relaxed, the storm seemingly abated for now. Sam certainly knew how to control his aunt. She stood up. “You two ready for some of my apple pie?”
I was so full my stomach wanted to scream “No!” but I found myself nodding along with Sam. It was as if my head had no actual connection to my brain. Within a few minutes we were eating the best apple pie I’d ever tasted, covered with cream. I’d had apple pie and ice cream before, but never warm pie with pure cream ladled over it. It wouldn’t be the last time.
Finally, when there was no way to put another bite of food into my body, Sam and I left to pick up my things from Benjamin’s. As we approached the house, a clap of thunder exploded overhead, and I jumped.
“Hope you’re not afraid of storms,” Sam said. “In the spring, we get them all the time. Sometimes one right after the other. The farmers look forward to the rain—as long as it’s not too much.”
“No, I love rain. I just didn’t realize we had a storm coming in.”
As if on cue, thick sheets of rain began falling on us. Sam parked as close to the door as he could, but we still got soaked before we hit the front porch. It didn’t take me long to gather what I needed. Before we left, I carried a lantern to the basement. I wanted to look inside the trunk where the vase had supposedly been found. It was still open, and except for a quilt that had been moved to one side, it looked just as it had when I’d gone through it the first time.
“The trunk was unlocked?” Sam had followed me down the stairs.
“Yes.”
“And where was the letter?”
“That was upstairs, in Mama and Papa’s room.” It made me nervous to think that someone had not only been in this basement, but also in the main room and the upstairs. The entire house felt tainted somehow.
Sam closed the chest. “I don’t like leaving the house unprotected.” He shook his head. “In Harmony, we don’t usually worry about locking our doors. I don’t think I’ve ever thought about someone breaking in and stealing something as long as I’ve lived here. But now I’m uneasy. This house is way too accessible.”
I reached over and put my hand on his arm. “Look. Whoever broke in was here for a specific reason. To get that letter and to plant the vase. I don’t think anything else is missing, and I doubt they’ll be back—especially since they know we’d be watching for them.”
He stared at the closed trunk. “Maybe you’re right,” he said thoughtfully, “but some new locks and dead bolts wouldn’t hurt.” His face creased in a deep frown. “Grace, how could anyone know about that letter? I mean, I doubt seriously that Ben told anyone else about it. If he had, they could have gotten it before you came to town.”
“I’ve wondered about that myself. I don’t know the answer.”
He turned toward me. “I might. I think the noises you heard last night were more than squirrels. I think someone was watching you and saw you read the letter.” He reached over and put his hand on my cheek. “You need to consider the idea that whoever is behind this may not take kindly to your probing and prodding around for information. I’m beginning to wonder if you might actually be in some danger.”
Although I already shivered from the chilled rain outside, his words made me feel even colder on the inside. Seeing my distress, he opened his arms, and I leaned into him. In the circle of his embrace, I felt safe. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that right at that moment, someone else in Harmony had very different intentions—and my safety was the least of that person’s concerns.
Chapter Ten
After a hot shower and cle
an clothes, I felt more like myself. I crawled into bed and gazed around the room Sweetie had prepared for me. Although only a guest room, it matched the rest of the house in charm and decor. Deep purple violets adorned the wallpaper. The thick oak furniture was delicately carved. A gorgeous lavender and gold Victorian rug lay in the middle of the gleaming wood floor. Flowers and vines decorated its edges. A fireplace with a thick oak mantel held a large basket of silk lilacs. I tried to imagine lying in this tall bed and snuggling down into the soft, stuffed mattress while snow fell outside and a fire crackled in the fireplace. Even though it wasn’t winter, it made me feel warm and comfortable. Over the bed hung a beautiful painting of children playing in a meadow full of flowers. I pulled myself up so I could see the signature. H. Mueller. Still another painting by Hannah. After hearing that Sam regularly bought her work, I felt confident I’d find more of the young girl’s paintings throughout the house.
I lay back down in the bed, pulled the thick, handmade quilt up to my chin, and stared up at the decorated ceiling tiles. The glow from a bedside lamp made the room seem so cozy and safe that the tension from the day’s earlier events began to lessen. I listened to the rain pelting the roof overhead and prayed for guidance. One of my favorite times to talk to God was after climbing into bed at night. Everything is dark and still, and His presence seems so real. Although no voice boomed out of heaven with the answers to my problems, a solid sense of peace washed over me, reminding me that I am never alone and that my Father is never surprised by any turn of events. Nor is there anything He can’t handle.
After praying, my mind wandered back to the intruder at Benjamin’s. The rain had successfully washed away any clues, such as footprints or tire tracks—not that they would have helped us anyway. If my visitor had left something behind that could identify him, it would likely be inside the house, and I hadn’t noticed anything that didn’t belong.
My silent musings drifted back to Sam’s embrace in the basement. Since then, he hadn’t tried to kiss me again, and I wondered why. Did he regret that first kiss the way I did? We had no future. It was pointless to stir up yearnings that could never be fulfilled. Keeping ourselves in check was the only sensible thing to do. I let out a deep sigh that seemed extremely loud in the silent room. Then why couldn’t I get that kiss out of my mind? And why did I get butterflies in my stomach every time I looked at him? Obviously, I knew the answers to my own questions—and they weren’t acceptable. “Stop it, Gracie,” I whispered. “Get control of yourself.” I had no intention of creating any additional problems in my life. I already had more than I could handle. In two weeks, come hell or high water, I intended to head back to Wichita, leaving Sam Goodrich and Harmony far behind me.
I forced myself to stop thinking about Sam. My priority right now lay in another direction, and I couldn’t allow errant feelings for some good-looking fruit farmer to interfere.
I turned out the light and listened to the rain for a while. Sam had asked me to go to church with him in the morning. At first I’d said no because I knew Ruth would be there. Finally, he’d convinced me that if I didn’t go, I would look guilty. Reluctantly, I’d agreed, but I was having second thoughts now. How would people treat me? Was the story all over town? Even as a part of me dreaded confronting the accusing looks and whispers, my stronger, more independent side rose up in indignation. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and I had nothing to feel embarrassed about. My parents had drilled several strong beliefs into me down through the years. One of them had to do with only playing to an audience of One—and that His opinion was the only one that mattered. I knew He wanted me to be kind and forgiving, yet He didn’t expect me to accept condemnation.
I thought about Mama Essie and Papa Joe and how much courage it took for them to walk away from the town and the people they loved because they knew Amil Angstadt was leading his congregation away from the Bible as well as the tenets of their faith. I figured if they could stand up for what was right in such a big way, I could certainly attend church knowing my conscience was clear and the charges against me were false.
I flipped over on my side and had just started to drift off when I heard the door to my room open slowly. I turned over to see who it was. The light in the hallway illuminated the empty doorway. I kept staring but no one appeared. Great. What now? Ghosts? Suddenly, something hurtled toward me, and a scream escaped my lips. A hairy face sought mine, and a wet tongue licked my forehead. Buddy!
“You scared the snot out of me,” I hissed accusingly.
Seemingly unfazed by my brief bout of hysteria, Buddy settled down next to me. I’d just put my arm around him and snuggled closer when the ceiling light suddenly clicked on. I turned my head toward the door. Sam stood there in a dark blue T-shirt that read Rock Chalk Jayhawk and matching sweatpants that had Jayhawk printed down the side.
“KU fan?” I teased.
His tousled hair and “deer in the headlights” expression made it clear he’d been sound asleep. “I thought I heard you scream.”
Even though I wore a T-shirt and sweatpants myself, my usual sleeping attire, I pulled the covers up closer to my chin. “You did. I was just attacked by a vicious beast.”
As if on cue, Buddy lifted his head and stared sheepishly at his perturbed owner.
“Buddy,” Sam grumbled. “What are you doing here?”
I quickly ran my hands through my hair, trying to rid myself of bedhead. “He’s attempting to sleep—just like me.” I smiled at him. “Thanks for running in to save me, but I’m fine. I can handle monsters this cute and cuddly.” I stroked the little dog. “Please don’t make him leave. Having him here makes me feel better.”
Finally, the stricken look on Sam’s face softened, and he shrugged. “Fine, he can stay, but only if you promise there will be no more screaming unless you’re being mauled by something a little more dangerous than Buddy.”
“You got it. Now if you don’t mind?”
Buddy’s mouth opened in something close to a doggy grin. Then he put his head down again.
“Boy, loyalty means nothing in this house,” Sam said accusingly. “Good night.”
“Good night.” I watched as he closed the door. It felt great to know he was looking out for me. And having Buddy in the room only added to my feeling of security. “Thanks,” I whispered into the darkness, “for two angels named Sam and Buddy. I know You’re watching over me. Please help me to uncover the truth. I’m counting on You.” Once again, I cuddled up next to Buddy and promptly fell asleep.
It seemed like only minutes passed before I awoke to Sam’s voice saying, “Time to rise and shine, sleepyhead!”
I sat up in bed and looked at the clock. It was a little after eight. Buddy stood up, yawned, and then jumped down off the bed and ran toward his master.
“Sure, now you pay attention to me. When you want food and you need to go outside.” He grinned at me. “Sweetie’s making breakfast.”
“Be down as soon as I get dressed.”
He nodded and closed the door. I could hear Buddy’s nails clicking on the wooden floor in the hall. I rolled over on my back and gazed up. The specter of accusing stares and angry murmurs from the citizens of Harmony floated like fuzzy visions across the ceiling. But the words of Jesus whispered louder. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.... Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”
I spent a few minutes thanking God for the day before me. Then I put myself into His capable hands. I rolled out of bed, grabbed my clothes, and made my way to the bathroom, as my slippers made a slap, slap, slap sound on the floor.
It took me about twenty minutes to scrub my teeth, change my clothes, apply some makeup, and run a brush through my hair. I’d brought one of my few dresses along. I usually wore slacks to church, but I hadn’t been certain what to expect in Harmony. Although my simple light aqua frock was modest and thankfully hung below my knees, the apple-green dress that I’d seen in Harmony popped into my mind. I really wanted it but was
worried that the Mennonite shop owners might think it was inappropriate for someone not of their faith to purchase it. How could a simple dress make me feel so insecure? I stared at my reflection in the mirror. “You can buy any dress you want, Gracie. Get the dress. You don’t have to wear it here. Wear it in Wichita.”
Having a quick talk with myself made me feel better. I would buy the dress. But I’d probably wait until right before I left town.
I picked up my T-shirt, sweatpants, and slippers and went back to the bedroom where I put them away. Then I made my bed and went downstairs. Sweetie and Sam were already sitting at the table. The smell of fresh-brewed coffee tickled my nose as I entered the kitchen. Sweetie got up when she saw me.
“My waffles are gettin’ cold, girl,” she said, her tone accusatory.
I glanced over at Sam who rolled his eyes and shook his head. I was beginning to learn that Sweetie’s nickname smacked more of irony than reality. This woman was about the sourest person I’d ever met.
