Inescapable (Road to Kingdom Book #1)

by Nancy Mehl

  “It will only take me a minute.” I grabbed her hand. “Please. Just sit down and wait. I’ll be right back.”

  She smiled and allowed me to lead her to a nearby table. I hurried to the kitchen, where Cora had just finished putting Ebbie’s sandwich on a plate.

  “Hope’s here,” I told her. “Do you mind if I take a few minutes to visit with her? After delivering Ebbie’s sandwich, everyone will have been served.”

  “You go on,” Cora said with a smile. “You’re doing great and deserve a break. Charity and I are thinking about taking an apple pie break ourselves.”

  I smiled at my daughter, who was having a wonderful time learning how a restaurant kitchen runs. “Just a small piece, Cherry Bear. Okay?”

  “Sure, Mama,” she said, returning my smile. “But it’s gotta have ice cream.”

  “Okay, but just a little bit.”

  She grinned happily. “Just a little bit.”

  I picked up Ebbie’s plate and had just started to open the kitchen door when Charity called out for me.

  I stopped and turned around. “Yes, sweetie?”

  She stared solemnly at me. “I like it here, Mama. And Miss Cora really, really needs our help. I think we might have to live here forever.”

  “We’ll talk about it later, honey. Okay?”

  She nodded, not satisfied by my answer but willing to put the subject on hold while she ate her pie.

  As I left the kitchen, I had to fight emotions that swung wildly back and forth between joy and fear. I knew she was as serious as a six-year-old child could possibly be, but I couldn’t make her any promises yet. I was thrilled she was happy, but until I knew for certain we would be safe in Kingdom, I couldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear.

  I gave Ebbie his sandwich, checked his coffee, and hurried over to where Hope waited for me. As I sat down next to her, I noticed Ebbie watching us closely. Hope smiled shyly at him once before turning her attention to me.

  “How about some coffee, Hope? Or a piece of pie?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have much time, Lizzie, but thank you.”

  I marveled at how little she had changed. Her alabaster skin was still flawless, and her violet-blue eyes just as striking as I remembered. She looked a little paler, but it was winter and that could certainly account for it. Her blond hair, so light it was almost white, was wrapped in a bun and stuffed under her black bonnet. Wisps of hair that had escaped captivity framed her lovely face.

  “Hope, I never got the chance to thank you for helping me leave Kingdom. I hope you didn’t get in trouble over it.”

  “Papa wasn’t very happy, Lizzie. Nor was your father. But I’ve never regretted my decision.” Her eyes kept darting toward the front door. Hope’s father was strict, but unlike mine, he was a just man. Why was she so nervous?

  “How did the church react?”

  She smiled. “Well, I was reprimanded by the elders, but I guess it could have been worse.”

  “I’m sorry, Hope. I didn’t mean to cause you problems.”

  “Lizzie, if I had it to do all over again, I would do exactly the same thing. You were so unhappy.” Her forehead creased in a frown. “I truly believe most of our residents wanted to support you—to comfort you. But many were too afraid of retribution. I regret we weren’t braver.”

  I shook my head. “You were very brave. You have nothing to regret. And I’m learning that there is more love and understanding in this town than I realized. It’s too bad we were all too timid to communicate better.”

  “I completely agree.”

  “So you and your father still run the quilt shop together?”

  She nodded. “Yes, but since Papa has become more and more involved with church business, I’m usually alone in the store.”

  “Church business? I understand my father and some of his friends are challenging the leadership.”

  “Yes, and I’m worried about it. My father has been friends with Pastor Mendenhall for many years, yet like your father, he also fears that if we relax our standards our way of life may suffer.” She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “Papa is meeting with your father and Pastor Mendenhall right now to try to bring some peace to our church. Even moments before he left, he still wasn’t certain just where he stood on the issues being discussed.”

  I frowned at her. “And what’s your view, Hope?”

  Her eyes widened at my question. Were there any women in Kingdom besides Cora who had a mind of their own? I was beginning to wonder.

  “I . . . I honestly don’t know. I see both sides.” She sighed and shook her head. “I have felt for a long time that we should show more love and forgiveness to the people in our congregation. Your situation is a perfect example. I’m still distressed that you felt you had to leave town to find peace.”

  “But?”

  She stared down at her long, slender fingers. “But before this current unrest, our town was serene. There was no conflict. How can our current state of affairs be God’s will? Would He want us to be at odds like this?”

  “You mean the way the people were stirred up against Jesus? Didn’t He say something about not bringing peace but a sword? That neighbors would be stirred up against neighbors?”

  She looked startled at my statement, but not as much as I was. Where had that come from? It was as if my mouth just opened of its own accord and the words tumbled out. I fought to remain calm and appear as if I’d meant every word I’d just said, but I felt a real sense of confusion. God and I weren’t on speaking terms, and explaining His motives wasn’t something I would attempt to do even on a good day.

  “Oh, Lizzie. I never thought of it that way.” Hope sat back in her chair and studied me. “Maybe trying to keep the peace isn’t the best thing after all. Standing up for what is right is more important sometimes.”

  “Maybe,” I mumbled, still baffled by my strange outburst.

  I noticed Hope exchanging another quick smile with Ebbie Miller.

  “Hope, is there something going on between you and Ebbie?” I asked. “You two keep looking at each other.”

  She blushed. “Papa and Ebbie’s father are trying to arrange a marriage between us.”

  “Arrange a marriage? I know parents must approve unions in the church, but I had no idea they were actually being arranged. When did this start?”

  “Perhaps I shouldn’t have used the word arranged. I don’t mean to give the wrong impression.” She stared down at the tabletop for a moment. “My father and Ebbie’s father are friends. They approached us with the idea of marriage, and we are both in agreement.”

  I frowned at her. “Do you love him, Hope?”

  “We’re getting to know each other, but only under supervision. You know how it works, Lizzie. You lived here for eighteen years.”

  “Yes, I know. But in every case I’m aware of, the boy and girl fell in love first and then asked for permission. Seems to me that you and Ebbie haven’t even fallen into like yet.”

  She laughed. “You have such an interesting way of saying things. But you’re wrong. I like him very much.” She held her delicate hands up. “What does being in love mean anyway? My mother and father were good friends and respected each other, yet they certainly weren’t comfortable with public displays of affection. And they had a wonderful marriage.”

  I’d known Hope’s mother before she passed away. Maybe they did have “a wonderful marriage,” but I couldn’t tell it by watching them. They were always very formal with each other—more like brother and sister than man and wife. Of course, what did I know? I’d only been in love once, and look how that turned out.

  “Well, I hope things work out the way you want them to, Hope. Any man who marries you will be very blessed.”

  She blushed. “Lizzie, I’ve missed you so much. Talking to you is good for my soul.”

  “Look, I know you’re concerned about your father’s meeting, but it’s liable to take a while. Why don’t you let me make you something to e
at?”

  She glanced nervously out the window, toward the church. Then she nodded. “All right. You’ve talked me into it. How about a piece of Cora’s wonderful peach cobbler and a cup of coffee? It sounds perfect on a cold, snowy day like today.”

  “Great, I’ll be right back.” I glanced out the window as I headed toward the kitchen. After the last storm, the temperatures had dropped even more, keeping the snow we already had from melting. So far, it had snowed every day since we’d arrived. Not so much that it added much accumulation, but just enough to let us know it hadn’t moved on. I’d loved snow as a little girl, but after living in Kansas City and having to drive to work in it, I’d almost forgotten its ethereal beauty. I was suddenly filled with a deep sense of gratitude that long trips to work on icy streets were behind me—at least for a while.

  Hope and I spent the next hour talking about Kingdom and its residents. She named those who had died since I’d left. I was sad to hear about the people who were gone. She also shared other events that had occurred in the lives of townspeople over the last five years. There were tragedies, but there were also reasons to celebrate, including marriages, births, and baptisms.

  “I noticed that you painted the outside of your shop,” I said. “How did that happen?”

  She smiled. “I’d been begging Papa to let us paint it for quite some time. Then one day last summer, he suddenly walked into the shop and declared, ‘If God thought enough of the sky to paint it blue, I don’t see why we can’t do the same with this old quilt shop.’ And that was it. The next day he went to Washington and bought the paint. A couple of his friends joined in to help, and when they were done, we had a blue quilt shop.” She laughed. “Papa may take a little time thinking things out, but when his mind is made up, no one except God himself can stop him. After he painted our shop, a few of the other business owners painted their buildings too.”

  I grinned. “So your father is the rebel behind the changes in Kingdom?”

  Hope laughed. “No, the first person to paint was Cora. Papa was next.”

  “Well, he was still very courageous.”

  She nodded. “I’m so proud of him, Lizzie. He’s not afraid to stick up for what he believes.” She sighed. “That’s what he’s trying to do now, with the situation in the church.”

  “Hope,” I said, changing the subject, “tell me about the school-age kids. Are parents still taking their children to meet the Washington bus?”

  “We have our own school now,” she said with excitement. “Leah Burkholder teaches classes in the old feed store that August Gretz used to own.”

  I frowned. “The state allows it?”

  “It was very easy to set up. All we had to do was register. They’ve never questioned us.”

  “Does school stop at the eighth grade?”

  She shook her head. “Although there have been decisions that allow some communities like ours to remove children from school after the eighth grade, our elders decided that trying to challenge the law might bring unwanted attention to our town. Their priority is to keep Kingdom away from the eyes of the world.”

  “And what is the law?”

  “In Kansas children are supposed to be educated until they are eighteen. At that time, they should either receive a diploma or pass a GED test. It’s not unbendable, though. Parents can give permission for their child to leave school at sixteen or seventeen if they want to. It’s up to them. As you know, many of our people farm and need their children’s help. But with a long summer break and flexibility when it is needed during harvest, there haven’t been any major problems. So far, everyone has elected to complete their education. Leah has proved to be a very effective teacher, and the children love her.”

  “She always was very bright. Does she charge for her services?”

  “The church provides her a salary so the parents don’t have to pay. It isn’t a lot, but it’s enough for her to take care of herself.”

  “She doesn’t live with her parents anymore?”

  “No, she has a room in the back of the school building. She’s more comfortable there. If you remember, the Burkholders’ farm is located quite a long way from town. In the winter, it was very difficult for her to ride back and forth.”

  “So she and I are both living in the center of town,” I said with a smile. “When I get the time, maybe I’ll pop over and visit her. If we end up staying in Kingdom for a while, I’d like to enroll Charity.” A thought jumped into my head. “Will the church allow my daughter to attend classes if we’re not church members?”

  “Yes, the church now supports the school for all the townspeople, not just for church members. It wasn’t this way until your father left the church. So his leaving makes it possible for his granddaughter to attend school. Strange turn of events, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, more than strange.” Figuring out how to get Charity in school had been my last major hurdle. Since the Washington bus didn’t come to Kingdom when I was young, we had to ride two miles in buggies until we reached the nearest bus stop. I could still remember frigid mornings, sitting in a buggy and praying the bus would hurry because it was so cold I could barely stand it.

  Parents took turns carting us to the stop. Everyone had a closed carriage except for Leah’s folks. The days her father drove were the worst. There was no protection against the freezing temperatures except to huddle underneath the comforters we covered ourselves with. My favorite ride was with Isabelle Martin’s father, a jolly man who liked to make us laugh. He hung a key on a string at the front of the buggy, next to window. He told us it was the key to his ignition. Although we took it as a joke, every time he carried us, we would keep our eyes peeled to see if he really used that key. In the summer, he’d brag that his buggy had air-conditioning and then roll up the side flaps. In the winter, his wife would put hot water into large, plastic milk containers. These would be placed on the floor at our feet, and they helped to keep us warm.

  Since leaving Kingdom, I’d convinced myself that our trips to school were a hardship. As I thought about them now, I realized I’d completely forgotten how much fun we had.

  Hope finished her cobbler and went back to the shop, promising to visit again soon. I was so glad she’d come by. Having someone like Hope in my life might help to fill the empty spot caused by saying good-bye to Meghan. Anyway, I hoped it would.

  Everything seemed to be falling into place for me and Charity. A job, a place to live, a new school. Almost as if our coming back to Kingdom really was meant to be.

  By the end of the workday on Wednesday, I felt I was getting a good handle on the restaurant and was actually enjoying my new job. Even so, I could hardly wait to go upstairs to our apartment after Cora closed for the night.

  The furniture Avery brought was gorgeous. I found it surprising. Kingdom was known for its commitment to plainness, yet Avery’s daughter, Berlene, had bucked the trend and purchased some pieces my father would not have approved of. The couch was huge and covered in dark green brocade with stitched flowers and carved wooden arms. A matching chair with an ottoman sat near the couch, and a creamy beige occasional chair with carved arms and legs took up a place in the corner. A mahogany accent table held our TV/DVD player, and a decorative trunk stored our DVDs. The beautiful four-poster headboard I’d spotted in Avery’s truck had indeed come with the footboard. The white French Provincial bed was gorgeous, and Charity loved it.

  When I lit the fire in the evening, our makeshift living room was so cozy and comfortable it almost brought tears to my eyes. I’d never had such a beautiful room before. Over the fireplace, Cora had hung a painting she had stored in the basement. Paintings were looked upon with suspicion in Kingdom, but there were a few rebels who had them in their homes. This painting was one that Cora’s sister had created. It was of a Kansas prairie. Dark gray storm clouds rolled across the sky, but a ray of sunshine had managed to push its way through. Its unearthly glow turned the wet wheat field below into a shining blanket of gold. It was beauti
ful and powerful. I’d tried to turn Cora’s gift down, explaining that her sister would want her to hang it in her own home.

  She’d chuckled. “My house is full of Georgia’s paintings. And besides, I have a feeling this picture is just for you. I know there have been storms in your life, Lizzie, but God’s love is still shining through. Maybe when you look at this picture, you’ll remember that.”

  I had to admit that since coming to Kingdom, my soul was beginning to change in ways I hadn’t anticipated. Maybe I wasn’t ready to start teaching Sunday school yet, but my hard heart was softening. I’d even begun to miss church. With my father and his supporters gone, would Charity and I be welcome? I had no intention of donning a prayer covering or wearing a traditional black dress to the service, though. Cora had been thinking about attending church again too. After talking about it, we decided to wait until the current situation came to a conclusion. If my father and his friends won, Cora and I would never be embraced by the church. If they didn’t come out on top, there was still no guarantee we would be allowed to darken the doors, but at least there was a chance.

  Charity ate dinner with Cora Wednesday evening, but I’d been so busy I’d missed out. So before climbing the stairs to our apartment, I went to the kitchen and made myself a meatloaf sandwich. With my plate and a glass of iced tea, I was ready to enjoy our night. I’d been so tired from work on Monday and Tuesday, I’d just stuck a DVD in the player and slept while Charity watched one of her favorite movies. But tonight I felt more lively and decided to read to my daughter.

  Charity’s favorite book was Dragonspell by Donita K. Paul. I found it at a used book store not long after we moved to Kansas City. Charity loved the adventurous story of the slave girl Kale, and I did too. I’d promised myself that I’d find the other books in the series, but I hadn’t done it. Instead we’d enjoyed the first book over and over and over. It had been well read and well loved. You could tell by its dog-eared pages and torn cover.

  I read several chapters until Charity’s head began to nod. With a promise to read more another night, I carried her to her room. Her beautiful new bed had a thick rose-colored comforter and pink sheets. Cora had painted the large wooden box in Charity’s room a gleaming white. Then she added pictures of a beautiful princess dressed in pink, a dragon, and a handsome prince.