Simple Secrets (The Harmony Series 1)

by Nancy Mehl

  I climbed into the seat, holding my skirt. “Because God took one look at Adam and said, ‘Wow. This guy’s going to need all the help he can get.’ And here we are.”

  He raised one eyebrow and cocked his head sideways. “I don’t remember those words from the Bible.”

  “I’m paraphrasing, but that’s exactly what He meant.”

  Sam laughed and closed the truck door. Then he got in and started the motor. “Did you talk to your dad?”

  I slapped my forehead. “Oh man. I hung up on him. I need to call him back.”

  “It will only take a few minutes to get to my place. You can call him from there.”

  I nodded and stared out the car window. As Sam backed up, I noticed a car parked in front of a detached garage near the back of the property. “Is that Abel’s car?”

  “Yes. You’re wondering why all the chrome is painted black?”

  I nodded. “I noticed a few cars like that when I came into town. My father mentioned something once about Mennonites who still affiliated themselves with the old ways but felt cars were a necessity in today’s world. They paint their bumpers dark so their cars won’t look too ‘flashy.’ He called them ‘black bumper’ Mennonites. I just assumed Abel was more progressive than that.”

  “Harmony is a town full of all kinds of people, Grace. You’ve seen that. Old Order, modern Mennonites, conservative Mennonites, non-Mennonites—even some folks who don’t go to any church at all. Yet for the most part, everyone gets along. They care about their neighbors.” He backed out of the driveway and pointed the truck toward Main Street. Then he stopped and turned toward me. “This is a special place, you know? It’s not perfect, but there’s something ... unusual here. As cliché as it sounds, I feel like I found myself in Harmony.” He grinned. “I know. I sound like a throwback from the sixties.”

  “Well, kind of.”

  He laughed. “Get ready to think I’ve really gone over the edge, but here goes. Ida Turnbauer told me that after Angstadt died, a bunch of the women got together and prayed that God would protect Harmony from the kind of divisive spirit that ruled this town during his reign. That God would bless this town with peace and make it a special place where people truly feel at home and treat each other like family. She believes He answered that prayer.”

  “Maybe you need to talk to Mary and John Keystone. I don’t think they’ve heard this story.”

  “I didn’t say people can’t get angry and upset. I just said it won’t rule. We’ve had our share of spats and problems, but I’ve been here since I was a kid, and I’ve never seen them go unresolved. Eventually peace comes.” He put the truck in gear and started down the dirt road.

  “Well, that’s very interesting, but what does that have to do with Abel’s painted bumpers?”

  “Oh yeah. Almost forgot. Well, Abel painted his bumpers black as a way to bridge the gap between the modern Mennonites and the few Old Order folks who live here. He saw it as a compromise. Abel cares more about not offending someone than he does about how good his car looks. I think it’s a great example of humility, and it goes a long way toward keeping the spirit of peace alive in Harmony.”

  I smiled broadly at him. “Oh, now I understand your truck. You’re trying to be the humblest, most peaceful person in Harmony.”

  He burst out laughing. “Oh man. You’re brutal.” His hands caressed the old, cracked steering wheel. “Actually, I just like this truck. We’re comfortable together. I realize it’s an eyesore, but I don’t care. I’ll trade her in one of these days.” He reached out the window and adjusted the side mirror. “You know, I used to own Levi’s Suburban. His old station wagon broke down, and he needed transportation. He asked about this truck, thinking I might be willing to sell it since I had two vehicles. But I just couldn’t let it go so I sold him the Suburban instead.”

  “You chose this truck over that nice Suburban?”

  “Yep. I sure did.” He winked at me. “Now don’t tell me you’re ashamed to be seen in this fine vintage vehicle.”

  “Heavens no. I drive a Volkswagen. That proves I have no ego whatsoever.”

  We both laughed. As Sam’s truck shook and jiggled down the uneven road, I gazed out the window at the passing houses. Families were out in their yards playing together. Happy dogs ran around with toys in their mouths while being chased by children who screamed with delight. Old people sat in rocking chairs on their front porches, watching their antics while mothers and fathers cleaned their yards and prepared barbeque grills for dinner. Sam was right. There was something about Harmony. Something I’d never felt before—even in Fairbury. Sometimes I had the strangest sense that I’d been here before—that I knew this place. It was a passing feeling—one that came and went so quickly it was almost like a quick flash of lightning. I suppose it was seeing Mama and Papa’s house—talking to people who knew my family. Whatever it was, the sensation left me feeling slightly unsettled.

  My mind drifted back to Emily and my discussion with her. What was I going to do about her revelations? What should I tell Sam? I’d promised Emily I’d do my best to keep her secret, yet I didn’t want to lie to Sam. I settled on a compromise.

  “Sam, do you trust me?” I asked more sharply than I meant to.

  He frowned at me. “Yes. Why?”

  “Emily told me some things I think will help us find the truth about what happened to Glick, but I can’t tell you all of it. Some of it is very private—to Emily. Will you respect that and not push me for information I can’t share?”

  “I suppose so. If that’s what you need me to do.”

  “Thank you.” I began to recount the conversation Emily overheard as a child, leaving out her past involvement with Glick. I hesitated before actually naming names.

  “I guess we need to find out just what Glick had on the good old bishop,” Sam said. “We also need to uncover the names of the three women being dangled as bait.”

  “I—I know who they were.”

  Sam glanced over at me. “So tell me.”

  “A woman named Kendra McBroom.”

  He nodded as he turned onto Main Street. “Kendra married a man over in Clay County. I don’t remember his name, but she has a sister who still lives here.”

  “Sam, my mother was one of the women.”

  He didn’t reply, but he slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road. We were parked right in front of Levi’s candle shop. All the shops on Main were closed except for the café.

  “Your mother?” His voice quivered with surprise. He stared through the windshield at the almost empty street. “That could explain the fight your father had with Glick. If he’d found out about it...”

  “But how?”

  A look of confusion crossed his face. “What if Angstadt went to your grandparents and told them he wanted their daughter for Glick?”

  “I don’t think so. First of all, my grandparents would never have agreed to it. They fully supported my parents’ relationship. Besides, I’m pretty sure Glick had someone else at the front of the line. I’d think if Angstadt had approached anyone, it would have been her.”

  “You mean Kendra?”

  I shook my head slowly and stared at the dashboard. “No. From what Emily told me, Glick favored one woman over the rest.”

  Sam waited silently. Even before I could get my next words out, his eyes grew wide. “It’s not ... not...”

  I put my hand on his. “It’s Sweetie, Sam.”

  His face hardened. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Look, it’s hard for me to accept, too.” I didn’t tell him that I couldn’t see Sweetie as a romantic figure. She must have changed a great deal over the years.

  “Tell me everything Emily said about my aunt,” he said, his voice hot with anger.

  “Emily said Sweetie was trying to run the family farm by herself and that her father was disabled. Angstadt mentioned some operation that might help him—but that Sweetie couldn’t afford it. He believed that if he offered her e
nough money to save the farm and pay for her father’s surgery, she might agree to marry Glick.”

  Sam focused an icy stare out the window. “That’s true about the operation. My grandfather’s broken bones weren’t set correctly. He developed a pressure ulcer that restricted his blood flow, and he died. If he’d had surgery to put those bones where they belonged, his life might have been spared.”

  “That’s awful Sam. I can’t imagine what your aunt went through. I’m so sorry. I hate the thought of dragging her into this situation and making her relive what must be the most painful time of her life.”

  His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. Finally, he released his hold. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. You didn’t cause this situation. Besides, now we really are in this together. You don’t have to fight this battle alone.”

  I smiled at him. “I was never alone. God has been with me from the beginning. But even before the moment I told you about the letter, I believed He sent you to help me. After I told you the truth, I knew He had.”

  Sam turned in his seat and pulled my face to his. His kiss was gentle but determined. Before I realized it, my arms were wrapped around his neck and we were locked in a tight embrace. When his lips left mine, I looked into his eyes and almost gasped at the raw emotion I saw there. I pulled back and straightened up in my seat.

  He scooted back behind the steering wheel. “I—I keep apologizing to you. I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have ... I mean...”

  “It’s okay.” I felt something bold rise up inside of me. “I wanted you to kiss me, Sam. It’s not just you.”

  He ran a trembling hand through his hair. “Look, I know we’ve only known each other a few days...”

  “Two days,” I interjected. “Two short days.”

  “Well, they don’t feel short to me. I feel like I’ve known you all my life.”

  The sincerity in his voice made my breath quicken. I gazed into his eyes. I had to fight to slow my breathing and catch my breath. What was happening to me? I’d never felt anything like this before. “I–I’m not sure if I can concentrate on this situation with my uncle if I’m thinking about you all the time. Can we agree to put our feelings on hold until we find a way out of this dilemma? My dad’s future hangs in the balance.”

  Sam’s eyes ran over my face as if he were trying to memorize it. “Yes. Of course.” His voice was low and husky. He ran his finger down the side of my face. “But once we figure this thing out...”

  I smiled. “We’ll talk.”

  Sam started the truck. As we pulled out in the street, I noticed someone near the entrance of the café staring at us.

  Mary Whittenbauer stood with her arms folded, her expression full of naked anger. If looks could kill, I’d be breathing my last.

  Sam’s attention was focused on a passing horse pulling a buggy. In his attempt not to startle the horse, he missed seeing Mary. As we drove by, she and I locked eyes. And what I saw there gave me chills that even a warm day like today couldn’t drive away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s that obvious?” I couldn’t remember anyone ever hating me with the kind of passion I’d witnessed on Mary’s face. The experience shook me to my core. “Mary was standing outside the café. She saw you kiss me.”

  “Oh great,” he mumbled.

  “Maybe the next time you decide to get romantic, you shouldn’t do it right in front of your girlfriend.”

  He gave me a withering look. “First of all, Mary isn’t my girlfriend. To be honest, right now, she’s not even my friend. Secondly, I’d like to draw attention to your use of the words ‘next time.’ I assume that means there will be a ‘next time’?”

  Before speaking I carefully measured my words. “It would be dishonest of me to say that I don’t want you to kiss me again. But besides trying to stay focused on the business at hand, we’ve got to remember that I’ll only be here two weeks. Do you really see any kind of a future for us?”

  “You make it sound impossible—as if we’re both immovable.”

  “But aren’t we? You have a farm. You can’t leave it—or Sweetie. And I’m a graphic designer.” I waved my hand toward the small businesses lined up along Main Street. “Do you see any advertising firms in Harmony? I have a great job in Wichita that I can’t walk away from. Besides, I’m just not a small town girl. I need the excitement of the city.”

  His expression grew pensive, and his lips tightened into a thin line.

  I waited for him to say something, but he stayed silent. I stared out the window and watched downtown Harmony pass by me while I tried to drive the picture of Mary’s face out of my head. I’d tried to make peace with her. Of course, I’d also assured her I wasn’t interested in Sam. At the time, I’d meant it. But what she saw today made me look like a liar. I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I leave it alone or try once again to soothe her hurt feelings? My last attempt had been a disaster.

  I forced myself to think of something else. There wasn’t anything I could do about Mary right now. I tried to focus on the uniqueness of Harmony as we drove down Main Street. I’d never seen a town with so much personality. Every building was painted a different color—and each one had its own design. Whether expressed through brightly colored or plain exteriors, or store names painted with individual flare and imagination, the individual buildings somehow added up to a complete picture. A desire to paint Harmony welled up inside of me. I hadn’t painted anything in a long time—ever since I’d started working for Grant. Perhaps Hannah and I could come down here together. It would be a great way to teach her the mechanics of painting. Not that she hadn’t picked up most of it through pure talent and instinct. The problem was finding the time.

  “What did you tell your father?” Sam said, interrupting my thoughts.

  “What?”

  “Your father. What have you told him?”

  I sighed. “I’d just asked him about Glick when Emily interrupted us. I’m sure he’s wondering what’s going on.” We reached Faith Road, and Sam turned the truck toward his house. “You know, it would be helpful if you could get his side of the story.”

  “Without spilling the beans?”

  He nodded. “I guess I’ll do what I’d originally planned. Just tell him I’ve heard stories about Glick and was wondering if he knew him.”

  “You don’t think he’ll find that the least bit suspicious?”

  I shrugged. “Why would he? I’ve already brought up other people I’ve met.”

  “Yeah, but you haven’t met Jacob Glick.”

  I slowly blew air out between pursed lips. “Well, in a way I have. It’s like he’s haunting me.”

  “Don’t be silly. People aren’t really haunted by ghosts.”

  “Well, he won’t go away, and he follows me wherever I go. What do you call that?”

  “Point taken.” Sam pulled into his driveway and parked next to the house. “Listen, I know I need to question Sweetie about Glick, but I can’t just go in there and ask her if he tried to buy her for his wife. Obviously, if he approached her, she didn’t accept his offer.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe her father died before she had the chance to act on it.”

  Sam vigorously shook his blond head. “I can’t accept that. She would never consider it. I know her. She’s not that kind of person.”

  I reached out and took his hand, wrapping my small fingers around his large, strong ones. “Sam, if Sweetie could save your life, what would she be willing to do?”

  His face took on a stricken look as he considered my question.

  “I rest my case,” I said gently. “None of us know what we’d do to protect someone we love. Besides, this happened years ago, and people change.”

  “I don’t want her to think I don’t trust her.”

  “Why would she think that? We’ll just ask her if she knew Glick. Give her a chance to tell us on her own what we need to know.
”

  Sam shook his head. “We can’t keep asking everyone about Jacob Glick. It looks weird. We need a cover story.”

  The curtains in the front window moved slightly. Sweetie was probably wondering why we hadn’t come inside.

  “What if we say we found something of Glick’s and it got us to wondering about him.”

  Sam frowned at me. “But that’s a lie.”

  “Well, you come up with something better,” I said with exasperation.

  His forehead wrinkled in thought. “What about the truth?” he asked after a long pause.

  “The truth? What truth? We can’t tell what we actually do know—and we have no idea what we don’t know...”