“Only twelve thousand.”
Emma clutched at her throat. “Only?”
“Well, I could sell some of the timber back. I could see if they’ll take the other things back too.”
“See what you can do.” Emma was doing her best to contain her anger. She had given Wil twenty thousand dollars to renovate the haus as her contribution; seeing that she thought that he had bought the haus with his money.
“I’m sorry about your money, Emma. You sound angry, but I’m upset about it too.”
Emma was too angry to think of comforting him. “We’ll talk when I get back.”
After she finished her call with Wil, Emma could scarcely hold back the tears as she relayed the entire story to Maureen. “What am I to do, Maureen? What am I to do?”
Maureen put her arm around Emma’s shoulder and gave her a tight squeeze. “You’ll forget about it while we’re here and we’ll enjoy ourselves. Now, wipe away those tears and we’ll have a walk outside in the sunshine.”
Before Emma answered she sat and looked around the hotel room. The covers on the twin beds were bright pink, the wallpaper was swirls of green and purple and small ceramic sailing ships were dotted along the walls. Emma missed home. The homes in the community were plain and not fussy at all, and the colors were always muted and pale. She knew if she stayed in that hotel room any longer than she had to she would surely get a headache. “Jah, a walk sounds gut.”
Together they stepped out of the hotel room and into the bright Florida sunshine.
* * *
It was five o’clock when they got back to the hotel.
The man on the reception desk of the hotel said, “I’ve got a message for you, Mrs. Kurtzler.”
Emma took the slip of paper. It read, ‘Phone Ettie back.’
Maureen and Emma walked up one flight of stairs to their room.
“I can’t wait to hear what she’s found out. I hope it’s not something bad,” Maureen said as she pressed the buttons on the telephone. She put the phone on loudspeaker so Emma could hear what Ettie said as well.
“I’m sorry to say that it’s not gut news, Maureen,” Ettie said.
“What did you find out? Is he dead?”
“Worse than that, I’m afraid. He’s married, or at least he was married. A year after the war ended we have a marriage record for him and one Miss Cutter.”
“He’s alive?” Maureen asked.
“He’s alive, and he married Josephine Cutter,” Elsa-May said.
Maureen’s mouth fell open as it sunk it that Dorothy’s love had married her best friend, the one who had disappeared. She looked at Emma, who was as shocked as she.
“That’s not all,” Ettie said. “I’ve found a death record for a Josephine Fielding and no death record for Harold Fielding.”
“Do you have an address for him?” Maureen asked.
“I’ve got a current address for him, get a pen.”
Maureen penned the address and hung up the phone.
Emma looked over her shoulder. “It’s not far from where Dorothy lived in Lancaster.”
“I wonder how long he’s lived there for? Why did he avoid Dorothy and marry her best friend?”
“It doesn’t make sense; not if you’ve read the letters. It’s awful. Dorothy won’t want to know that. Let’s not tell her just yet,” Emma said.
“Nee, we can’t tell her. Let’s have Ettie and Elsa-May go visit Harold. He might tell them his side of things,” Maureen said.
“Jah, Maureen. Quick call them back and see if they’ll do it.”
Chapter 7.
For therefore we both labour and suffer reproach,
because we trust in the living God,
who is the Saviour of all men,
specially of those that believe.
1 Timothy 4:10
Elsa-May and Ettie climbed out of the taxi at the address that Ettie had found for Harold Fielding.
It was a small house and a man was out the front, crouched in the garden and he rose to his feet as the ladies walked through the low gate.
“Would you be Mr. Fielding?” Ettie asked.
He placed his garden fork on the ground and took off his gloves. “Yes.”
“Did you once know a Dorothy Welby?”
The man studied the two ladies in turn. “What’s this about?”
“We’re friends of Dorothy Welby and she believes that you went missing in the war.”
“I’m sorry, I think you ladies are mistaken. Dorothy Welby is dead; I’m sorry to say.”
The ladies shook their heads. “She’s alive and well, two of our friends just visited her yesterday. She’s the same Dorothy Welby who you wrote letters to during the war.”
Harold sat on the front step of his house. “I was told she died.” He looked up at the two ladies and then said, “Give me a minute.” After a moment, Harold buried his face in his hands.
Elsa-May and Ettie looked at each other as they wondered what to do.
He took a handkerchief out of his wallet, rubbed his face and then blew his nose. “You ladies better come inside.”
They followed him inside and sat at Harold’s kitchen table.
“She’s really alive?” He studied the two ladies.
They nodded.
“Is she well?” he asked.
They nodded again.
“Who told you she died?” Elsa-May asked, already guessing the answer.
“Josephine.”
“The woman you married?” Ettie asked even though they knew that to be the case from the marriage records.
Harold stared at them. “You knew Josephine?”
“Knew of her,” Ettie said.
“How can it be that she deceived me? I cannot believe that she could have done anything so cruel to another human being. She knew how I grieved for her. Josephine helped me through my grief. I felt I owed her; I owed her my life. I would have taken my own life if Josephine hadn’t stopped me. She suggested we marry, and I agreed. She’s gone now; she died just six months ago.”
“That’s how we traced you, through her death certificate,” Ettie said.
“Where is Dorothy now? Does she know where I am?”
“No, she doesn’t know anything. She was told that you died, or officially, that you were missing in action.”
Harold nodded and said, “I was in a prison camp, but I was freed when the war ended. They didn’t release us when they should’ve, they held on to us longer than they should have. We didn’t even know that the war had ended. Thinking about my dear Dorothy was the only thing that got me through.”
“She thinks you were lost in the war and then her ‘friend,’ Josephine Cutter, disappeared suddenly,” Elsa-May said.
‘It was then that she moved to Lancaster,” Ettie added.
“She moved to live into our old house?” Harold asked.
Ettie nodded. “She hoped that you would come and find her there if you ever came back.”
“I never had reason to go by that old house. I assumed that since she had died and had no family that the old house would have been auctioned by the state. I put it out of my mind.” He looked at the two ladies intently. “This is all true is it? It’s not one of those reality television programs or someone playing a cruel trick on me, is it?”
“I can assure you we are telling the truth. Dorothy recently moved to a retirement home in Florida. She’s very much alive.”
“I must see her. Do you have a phone number for her?” He held his heart. “My old ticker is playing up. I’m not supposed to travel, well not on a plane. They took my driver’s license from me as well.”
“We’ve got friends in Florida right now. Our friend, Emma, bought Dorothy’s old house and found your old letters. They went to Florida to take them back to Dorothy. She told them the story about you, and that’s why we came looking for you.”
A smile lit up Harold’s face. “She kept my letters?”
Elsa-May nodded and patted the old man’s ha
nd. “She kept them all this time, locked in a box.”
“Did she marry?”
“No, she never married. I don’t think, did she?” Ettie turned to Elsa-May.
Elsa-May shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I must see her,” Harold said.
Ettie and Elsa-May looked at each other. They weren’t sure whether Dorothy would want to see him going by what she said to Maureen.
“Why don’t we tell our friends up there that we’ve found you and let them tell Dorothy?”
The old man nodded. “She doesn’t know I’m alive? Please. I’m sorry, ladies. This has all been a shock. I hope I didn’t appear rude when you arrived here.”
“Not at all,” Ettie said. “You weren’t to know who we were or what we wanted. Why don’t you tell us how you met Dorothy?”
“That’ll be a long story; I’ll make us some coffee or would you prefer tea?”
“Coffee will be fine,” Elsa-May said. “We’ll help.”
When the coffee was ready they all sat down.
Harold blinked back tears and cleared his throat. “Well, here’s how we met. It was at a dance.” Harold relaxed back into the couch. “When I walked into the dance hall that night, I wasn't expecting much. Times were hard, for me at least, and there was talk of war. We were young and had the need for fun and excitement beyond what we were faced with every day.”
He paused and the ladies saw a sparkle in his eyes. “Back then, there were plenty of eager women anxious to get their hands on a husband. I wondered if I might be called up if war broke out. I had to do my duty.” He slurped his coffee.
Elsa-May asked, “When did you see her?”
“I didn't at first. Music was playing, and people were milling about, each trying to capture the attention of another. Somehow through all of the chatter, I heard the faintest sound of a giggle. Can you believe that? In a noisy dance hall filled with laughter and music, my ears caught a hint of sweet giggle. I looked around, thinking that I was hearing things.” He looked up and smiled at Ettie and Elsa-May. He seemed happy to tell them how he met Dorothy.
He continued, “I saw her sitting at a table with a lot of people. She wasn't just any girl. She was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, bright green eyes shining underneath long lashes; she was as pretty as a movie star. One of those Hollywood starlet beauties, you know? They used to call them pin-up girls. Our eyes met as she continued to giggle with her girlfriend. She blushed and I blushed. My friends teased me and pushed me in her direction. I stammered. I didn't know how to speak to such a pretty woman.”
“So, what did you do when your friends pushed you toward her?” Ettie asked, engrossed in his story.
A smile splashed across the old man's face. “I panicked, of course. Now, mind you, I never had trouble talking to women before, but this one...well, she made me nervous. I don't know whether it was her smile or her eyes or her perfectly coiffed blonde hair, but she did something to me. All I could muster was a ‘hello.’ Then, I stood there looking like a fool with a silly grin on my face.” A hearty laugh escaped his lips.
Elsa-May asked, “Then, what happened?”
Shrugging his shoulders, he continued, “She answered me after she laughed at my awkwardness. I didn't care because at least she didn't shoo me away. We spoke for a few minutes. I don't know what we spoke about exactly. All I can remember is her beauty. I couldn't help but stare into her eyes. They were a shade of green I'd never seen before. Just beautiful and honest looking.”
Leaning toward the women, he asked, “Do you know what I mean? How you can tell someone's a good person by the look in their eyes? I saw that with her. Everything about her, her alabaster skin and her not-so-done-up face told me she was real – authentic. I mean she wasn’t all gussied up or looking like she was trying to impress.” Swallowing hard, the old man put his hands to his head.
Elsa-May and Ettie knew that he was lost in the memory of that pretty girl he met at the dance. They sat in silence and waited for him to continue his story.
“Boy, I'll tell you. That woman made my heart sink into the pit of my stomach. I'd heard people use that expression, but I never experienced it before that night. Every word out of her mouth made my knees weak. My hands shook so hard I had to tuck them into my pockets so she wouldn't see. I'm sure she noticed, but she never said a word about them. I'll never forget the smell of her perfume, it hinted of lavender. Yup, even in a smoke filled dance hall, I could smell her sweet perfume. Every time I smell lavender, I think of her.”
The two women looked at each other.
“Did you ask her to dance?” Ettie asked.
A broad grin preceded another round of hearty laughter before he answered. “You bet I did, but I wouldn't call it dancing. It was more of me tripping over my own feet while she pretended I wasn't an idiot. It worked out though. She didn't leave me standing on the middle of the dance floor. It gave us something to laugh and talk about later.”
He shook his head. “She loved to dance. I loved to try to keep up with her. It gave me an opportunity to take in that sweet lavender scent and hold her tiny frame for a few moments.”
Ettie asked, “What happened next?”
“After we danced?”
The two women nodded.
“Well, after I nearly broke my ankle and hers on the dance floor, she invited me to her table. Of course, her friends and my friends tried to be nonchalant about it, but we could hear their snickering. It didn't matter though. All I cared about was getting to know her better. Aside from her looks, she really was the sweetest thing and smart too. That awkward night proved to be one of the best nights of my life. What I wouldn't give to be able to dance with her again.”
The old man breathed out heavily. “I can’t wait to see her again; I thought I’d have to wait ‘til I died. Does she have a phone number?”
“I suppose she might,” Elsa-May said as she looked at Ettie who shrugged her shoulders showing that she wasn’t sure.
“Can you get me her phone number? I’ll give you mine, but I can see that you ladies are Amish and wouldn’t have a phone, would you?”
“We can still use a phone,” Ettie said, leaving out the information about her secret cell phone.
Elsa-May sucked in her lips and then said, “We haven’t told her that you are alive. I’m sorry to say this, but there’s a chance she might not want to see you.”
The smile left Harold’s face. “I’ll have to abide by her decision. Please let me know what she decides, as soon as possible? I’d dare say she won’t be happy when she hears I married Josephine.”
Ettie and Elsa-May left Harold’s place with his phone number.
“It must’ve been a nasty shock for him that Josephine told him that Dorothy had died, and then tricked him into marrying her,” Ettie said.
Elsa-May nodded. “A terrible shock. Maybe he found out that she was a deceptive kind of person after they’d been married for a time.”
“Maybe.”
Chapter 8.
Charge them that are rich in this world,
that they be not highminded,
nor trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God,
who giveth us richly all things to enjoy;
1 Timothy 6:17
Maureen hung up the phone after Ettie told her the situation from Harold’s point of view. Harold had been deceived by Josephine Cutter into thinking that Dorothy was dead. Then he married Josephine almost out of a sense of gratitude or obligation for her helping him through his grief.
“How are we going to tell her that?” Maureen asked Emma.
“Should we tell her? She’ll be devastated. She did tell us not to tell her if he was alive and hadn’t bothered to find her. This is worse than him not trying to find her, isn’t it?”
Emma and Maureen talked about it for a while longer before they decided that Dorothy should know what happened between her friend, Josephine, and her old beau, Harold.
The very next morning, Emma and
Maureen knocked on Dorothy’s door once more.
“Come in, come in,” Dorothy said when she opened the door and saw them standing there. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company again?” Dorothy asked.
“Can we sit down?” Maureen asked.
“Of course, I’ll fix us some tea, shall I? I was just about to have some myself.”
Maureen and Emma sat in the living room and looked at each other. Emma could scarcely stop her fingers from fiddling with the strings of her prayer kapp. She hoped that Dorothy would not be too upset at finding out that her best friend had lied to Harold and then married him.
When Dorothy appeared with a large serving tray, Maureen helped her carry it to the coffee table.
“I’ll pour,” Maureen said.
“Thank you, it’s not often I’m waited on. Now, you two are looking very serious. Do you have bad news for me? I can take it. You don’t have to be scared.” The old lady brought the teacup to her lips, her eyes flitting between Maureen and Emma.
“We found Harold,” Emma said.
Dorothy put the teacup back down on the saucer. “Is he dead?”
Maureen and Emma shook their heads.
“It’s a complicated thing,” Maureen started. “He is very much alive. He was married, but his wife died recently.”
“He married, but where is he? They told me he was missing.”
“He’s living close to Lancaster County. Two of our friends went to visit him yesterday. He told them that he was in a war prison overseas, but he did come back a little time after the war had ended.”
Dorothy pursed her lips. “Why didn’t he come and find me?”
“He was told that you had died,” Maureen said softly.
The old lady’s two hands flew to her open mouth. She stared from Maureen to Emma then placed her hands back in her lap. “Who told him that?” she said, her voice croaky.
“That’s the thing where it gets a little complicated.” Maureen threw a sideways glance at Emma.
Amish House of Secrets Page 5
