by Nancy Mehl
“Thanks. Follow me.”
I led him to the kitchen and down the basement stairs. “Just put it on top of the washer,” I said, pointing to the old machine in the corner. “I’ll take care of it in the morning.”
He put it down where I told him. I’d turned to go back up the stairs when he called out my name.
“Lizzie, wait a minute.” He stood next to a large wooden support beam in the middle of the room. “I’m probably not going to be able to talk you out of your plans with Clay. But this might be the last chance I have to be alone with you, and I’d like a chance to say my piece.”
“I . . . I don’t think—”
“I don’t care what you think,” he said flatly. “It needs to be said. At least I’ll always know I did everything I could.” He took a deep breath. “I love you, Lizzie. I’ve loved you ever since we were children. You didn’t know it back then, because I was afraid sharing my real feelings would tear us apart.” He shook his head. “Maybe that was a mistake. If I’d been honest, it’s a good chance you wouldn’t have gotten mixed up with Clay Troyer.”
His eyes locked on mine. “Regardless, I’ve always tried to take care of you. Look after you—even when you didn’t know it. I realize it’s been hard—with your father and everything. You needed someone to protect you when you were young, and you need someone to protect you now. That’s why I have to say something to you, whether you like it or not.
“Elizabeth Lynn, marrying Clay is a mistake you’ll regret the rest of your life. I’m convinced of it. Stay here, Lizzie. Please. Marry me and stay in Kingdom. Help me make life better for this town. For everyone who lives here. I’m convinced there’s nothing you and I can’t do together.”
I stared at him, trying to find a response, but it was as if my mind was locked up. “I . . . I . . .” was all I could get out.
He came over to me and took my hands in his. Once again I felt lost in his eyes. “You know me, Lizzie. You know me better than you think. And I know you. I know you better than anyone on this earth. Search your heart. If you do, you’ll admit you don’t really love Clay. I believe you love me as much as I love you.”
I knew he was going to kiss me again. I could have stopped it, but I didn’t want to. His lips felt soft and sweet. When he pulled away, I kept my eyes closed because I wanted the moment to last.
“I’m leaving now,” he said. “I’ll be back in a couple of days. Please think about what I said. You have a choice. Stay here with me or leave with Clay. No matter what you choose, I will love you till the day I die.”
I opened my eyes to see him walking up the stairs. The door shut behind him, and I waited for a few minutes, hoping he’d be gone by the time I went upstairs. As I stood there, some of the words from the theme song to Sleeping Beauty began to play in my mind. “I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you. . . .” Noah was certain he knew me. Just like Prince Phillip knew Aurora.
I suddenly realized how ludicrous that sounded. “Oh, come on, Lizzie,” I said out loud. “You’re starting to sound as silly as your six-year-old daughter.” I shook my head and laughed. Then I went upstairs. Noah was gone.
Mother and Father sat at the table together with Charity across from them. My father’s hands were wrapped around his coffee cup, as if he were depending on it for warmth. His color was back to normal, and he’d finally stopped trembling.
“There you are,” he said when I came into the room. “I want to say something to you and your mother before I leave. Would you sit with me a minute, Daughter?”
I was beginning to shiver in my wet clothes, but I nodded. “Sure, but you should stay here tonight,” I said. “Both of you. It’s too bad outside to venture out again. Especially all the way to the Strauss farm.”
“Before we make a decision about that,” Father said, “I would like to speak my piece.”
That got my attention. It was almost the same thing Noah had said in the basement.
“Elizabeth, when I lay in that ditch with the snow coming down as if it wanted to bury me alive, my mind could only think of your mother . . . and you. I . . . I have tried to be a good father to you. Anyway, I thought I had. It has been difficult for me to understand why you have rebelled against me so.
“I also began to remember how I felt as a child when my father said things to me that may have been . . . unkind.” Tears filled his eyes, and my mother reached for his hand. “Although I tried to understand that he was attempting to make me a good man who would serve God and my family with integrity and holiness, I must admit now that over time I grew angry because I could never seem to please him. To live up to his expectations.”
He shook his head. “I have come to the realization that my actions may have caused you to feel the same way. If this is true, I must ask your forgiveness. Perhaps I should have led you more by example instead of harsh words.” He quickly wiped away a tear that snaked down his cheek. “All I can say in my defense is that I tried to be the kind of father I thought you needed.” He stared into my eyes. “I am sincerely asking you to forgive my failures, Daughter. I cannot promise that I will change overnight. But you have my promise that I will do my best to treat you . . . and my granddaughter differently if you will afford me the chance.”
He turned his gaze to my mother. “And I will work just as hard to be a better husband, Anna, if you are able to be patient with me. Perhaps someday you will allow me to come home. However long it takes . . .”
My mother put her fingers on his lips, stopping his words. “It takes only this long, Husband. Let us go home now. The wind has died down, and I am sure we can make it safely. You need warm clothes, and I want to draw you a hot bath.”
Tears coursed down my father’s rugged face. “You can take me back so quickly, Anna? After the way I treated you?”
“Of course, Matthew. You are my dear husband, and I love you with all my heart. Nothing will ever change that.”
“You are my heart, Anna,” he answered brokenly. “My heart.”
As I wiped away my own tears, I felt a tug on my sleeve. Charity stood next to me. “Mama, I don’t think Grandpa is a bad man anymore. Can I hug him now?”
I nodded, unable to speak. Charity ran over and wrapped her little arms around my father, who returned her embrace although somewhat stiffly.
“Thank you, Granddaughter,” he said. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
“I prayed for you, Grandpa, and I knew God would help you,” she said sweetly.
Father gave her a tentative smile. “Please keep praying, Charity. Your prayers are very important to me.”
It was too much to believe that my father could change years of negativity overnight, but at least he was trying. That meant more to me than words could express. Maybe we actually had a chance to mend our fractured relationship. My heart, which was soaring with joy, suddenly dropped like a stone. We wouldn’t be here for my father to make good on his promise. The ache in my chest was almost physical.
“Father and I are going home,” Mother said, rising to her feet. “The wind has calmed down in the last few minutes, but I am not sure how long it will last.” She grinned. “As your grandmother used to say, we had better ‘get going while the going is good.’”
I smiled at her. “Grandmother had lots of sayings like that. I wasn’t sure what some of them meant, but it didn’t matter.”
“No, it didn’t matter one bit.”
She kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you, Lizzie. For everything. If the weather improves I will see you tomorrow.” She snuck a quick look at Father, who nodded.
“When the roads are better, perhaps your mother and I will come back and have dinner.” He looked around the dining room. “I have heard many good things about this place.”
“That sounds wonderful.” I went up to him cautiously. Hugging my father wasn’t something I’d tried since childhood. Although he seemed a bit rigid, he wrapped his strong arms around me. His beard tickled my cheek.
“I do love you, Lizzie,” he whispered, “and I am sorry it has taken me so long to tell you.”
It was the first time he’d ever called me by my nickname. It touched me deeply, and I didn’t want to ruin the moment, but there was a question that had to be asked. I couldn’t let my chance to ask it slip away. “Father,” I said quietly, “please don’t be angry, but I must know the truth about something. Whatever you tell me now I will accept.”
He stared down at me. “As I told your mother, it was a deer, Daughter. You have my word.”
I looked into his eyes and saw his complete sincerity. “Thank you, Father.”
With that, my parents left. I watched them drive away in their buggy, Blackie prancing in the snow, almost as if rejoicing that his master had returned. As Mother had said, the wind was calmer, even though snow still fell. Maybe the storm was finally moving out. At least one storm in my heart had quieted as well. I believed my father. He didn’t kill Dave Parsons. I’d found it hard to believe that my father would ever resort to murder, but I consoled myself with the knowledge that even my mother had been unsure for a while.
So did Dave Parsons really die accidentally? Or had someone else killed him? I shook my head as I stared out at the snow-covered ground. How could that be possible? No one in Kingdom knew the man. The past few weeks had caused me to start looking for monsters around every corner. Sometimes, corners were just corners.
After getting out of my wet clothes, I got Charity ready for bed. She dropped off almost immediately. However, the excitement of the day wouldn’t allow me to sleep quite yet. I realized I’d never had dinner, so I went downstairs to make a sandwich and pour a glass of milk.
I felt so confused. Clay’s revelation that the police were looking for me, my decision to leave Kingdom, Noah’s pronouncement of love and proposal of marriage, my father’s rescue and the turnaround in his behavior . . . All of it together seemed impossible to take in. How could I tell my parents I was moving to Seattle? My mind had made a decision, the one I felt was best for my daughter, but what about my heart? Was it selfish to follow it instead of what seemed to be the right choice for my daughter?
A look at the clock revealed it was after midnight. I’d had no plans to open in the morning, but another look outside showed the snow becoming lighter. Surprisingly, the wind had created huge drifts that lined the road, but the street itself wasn’t too bad. Knowing the hardy folks in Kingdom, I’d be smart to get some sleep. One of our farmers could be knocking on the door first thing in the morning. As I headed for the stairs I suddenly remembered the blanket on the washer. Letting it sit wet might cause it to mold. I hurried down the stairs and grabbed it, shaking it out first. Something fell out on the floor. Noah must have accidentally picked up something in his truck when he got the blanket out of his backseat.
As I bent to pick it up, I froze, horrified by what I saw.
A blue envelope with my name written on the front.
CHAPTER / 23
My legs felt weak, and I grabbed a nearby stool. Slowly ripping open the wet, stained envelope, I found exactly what I expected. Although the letters ran together somewhat, it was clearly another threat.
I’m still watching you, Lizzie. There’s not much time left.
I sat there, trying to make sense of it. How did this note get in the blanket . . . which had been in Noah’s truck? His declarations of love and his constant promises to protect me suddenly took on an extremely ominous meaning. Had he protected me from Parsons? Noah was one of the only people who knew that the man had followed me to Kingdom from Kansas City.
I suddenly remembered something he’d said that I’d forgotten about in the excitement of finding my father. Noah had mentioned that Father had gone off the road in about the same place Mr. Parsons had. How would he have known that? He wasn’t around when the body was found. There was only one way he could have gotten information like that—if he’d seen the body himself. But if he loved me and was trying to protect me, why would he write notes threatening me and my daughter? Could this be some kind of twisted plan to make me run to him to seek security? Or were we in actual danger? Maybe he would do anything to keep me close to him. Telling him I was leaving with Clay could have been a horrible mistake.
I felt sick to my stomach. What should I do? Phone the police? Tell them that an elder in Kingdom church had gone crazy, had killed a man to protect me and might try to kill me too? As I considered my options, the idea that Noah had anything to do with Dave Parsons’ death or the hateful threats seemed impossible. Besides, how could he have sent mail to me in Kansas City? He couldn’t have known where I was. And the envelopes all had local postmarks.
Slowly another possibility dawned on me. Could he have hired Dave Parsons to find me and send me the notes? I shook my head as I considered this. Noah’s voice echoed in my thoughts. “You know me, Lizzie. You know me better than you think.” And I did. Noah Housler wasn’t a murderer, I was sure of it. So where did the note come from? And how did Noah know where Dave Parsons died?
I let out a big sigh into the semidarkness. What was it with me and men? I’d misjudged Clay and my father, and now I found myself suspecting an elder in the Mennonite church of taking a man’s life. I rubbed my head. It was time to get some sleep. Maybe I’d know what to do in the morning.
After putting the envelope into my pocket, I stuck the blanket into the washer, started it, and then slowly climbed the stairs. When I reached the kitchen, I quickly cleaned up the dishes from my impromptu supper and then checked the door. For some reason, tonight I wanted to make sure it was locked. When I finally climbed into bed, I spent time thanking God for saving my father’s life and touching his heart. Then I prayed once again for guidance. Even though I didn’t believe Noah was behind the threats, it seemed someone in Kingdom wanted to harm me and Charity. Someone who may have killed Dave Parsons.
When morning rolled around, I got out of bed and prepared food for breakfast, although not as much as I usually did. Sure enough, by a little after six, five customers had already made it in, and by nine, we were about half full. Several of the men had come into town specifically to clear the streets. After warming up with a hot meal, they went outside and hooked up snowplows to their tractors, making short order of Main Street. Then they headed out to the side streets.
About one thirty Mother walked into an empty dining room. Everyone seemed to be preoccupied with digging out of the storm. If the skies stayed clear, I had no doubt that tomorrow night would be very busy. “Your father would have come, but he is clearing the snow and doing some work around our home. He admits that it has fallen into disrepair over the last two years, and he is determined to fix it. He was cleaning out the fireplace and gathering wood this morning. Before I left, I saw him standing outside, staring at our outhouse.” She giggled. “I believe he is determined to build a bathroom inside, not just for me, but also for Charity.”
I laughed. “Sit down, Mother. How about something to eat?”
She lowered herself into a chair. “I don’t suppose you have prepared any fried chicken today?”
“Fried chicken is a constant around here. We sell more of it than anything else. I’ll be back with a nice hot plate in a few minutes.”
She glanced around the room. “Where is Charity?”
“Taking a nap. She found last night exciting but also very tiring.”
Mother nodded. “I agree with her. Getting out of bed this morning was quite difficult. However, Matthew’s industrious behavior puts me to shame.” She took off her bonnet and set it next to her on the table. “Lizzie, I heard your father whistling this morning. It has been so long since—” She stopped and bit her lip, trying to hold back her emotions. “I will not cry today. Before long you will think me a silly, weepy old woman.”
“Tears of happiness are a lot different than tears of pain,” I said softly. “You can bawl your head off, for all I care.”
She laughed. “What a funny expression. Why would I want to lose my he
ad? I think that would not make me the least bit happy.”
I grinned at her. “Why, Mother, you made a joke.”
“Yes, I did, Daughter. And it felt good.”
I chuckled and headed to the kitchen. The mashed potatoes and gravy were still hot, and frying the chicken only took a few minutes. I tossed in a couple of pieces for myself after realizing I hadn’t eaten. By the time I carried our plates out to the dining room, I’d made the decision to tell my mother about Clay and Noah. I needed wisdom, and she was the wisest person I knew.
After praying for our food, I first broached the subject of Noah and the note. “He keeps reminding me about a promise he made to me when I was a child, Mother. That he would always protect me. Could his drive to take care of me lead him to kill that detective?”
“Oh, Daughter, I do not think so. I have known Noah Housler all his life. He is a very good man. Not someone who would take a life.”
“But what about the note, Mother? And how could he possibly know the exact spot in the ravine where Dave Parsons died?”
She shook her head. “I do not know, Elizabeth Lynn. Perhaps you should be asking him these questions.”
I took a big bite of mashed potatoes and gravy while I considered her suggestion. Maybe she was right. Noah was the only person who had the answers I needed.
More than once, as Mother and I visited, I tried to bring up my plans to marry Clay and leave Kingdom, but she was so happy, I couldn’t do it. Not yet. I finally decided to wait until our plans were solid before telling her and Father. It would hurt them, and that was something I didn’t want to do. Of course, watching me get arrested and hauled off to jail would upset them even more. A verse from Isaiah popped into my head about God making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. That’s what I needed. For God to make a way for me through my mess. A way that would bring joy instead of sorrow. God brought me to Kingdom, and He was the only one who could sort out the muddle I was in.
Charity woke up around two thirty, and Mother played with her for a while. Around four Callie came in, apologizing for not making it in sooner. She’d been snowed in. I sent her home, deciding to close for the evening.
