Rose bit her lip, but then Eleanor giggled and Rose knew she didn’t have to answer; everything was all right between them again. “Since you’re here, I’m going to run to the produce stand, okay? Helen needs to pick up her pies early today.”
With her hair sticking out and a coffee stain on the front of her shirt, Helen looked as frazzled as Rose had felt all week. “I had a rowdy group at the inn last night,” she explained. “Looks like you might have had trouble here, too. What happened to your sign?”
When Rose told her, Helen responded much the same as Caleb would have reacted—by suggesting Rose call the police. Rose shook her head. “It was probably just a group of bored kids playing a prank. And they paid for the pie—there wasn’t any money missing from the jar.”
“I wouldn’t care whether they paid for the pie or not. It wasn’t right of them to ruin your sign!” Helen exclaimed. “You’re a lot more forgiving than I am.”
Helen’s comment returned to Rose later that afternoon when she saw Baker’s penmanship on an envelope she pulled from the mailbox. She was racked with guilt. I’m so unforgiving I don’t even want to read anything he has to say, she thought, and tossed the letter on the hall table.
It wasn’t until she was headed upstairs for bed that she resigned herself to reading it. “Dear Rose,” it began, and Rose was grateful he hadn’t taken the liberty of using his nickname for her again.
Your mother told me you’ve been busy baking pies to sell—she said that’s probably why I haven’t heard back from you myself. I hope it’s not because you’re still angry at me. I know what I did was wrong, but I really have changed, Rose.
I’ve been learning a lot from working at the hardware store. It’s got me thinking about opening a harness shop since I have so many connections with horse and stable owners. Maybe you and I could even co-lease that little building on Fourth and Main—you know, where the bookstore used to be. They sold food there, too, so there’s got to be an oven for you to use, and I could set up shop in the rest of the space. What do you think?
Won’t be long until you’re back home. Meanwhile, I wanted you to know how much I’ve missed you.
Yours,
Baker.
Rose closed her eyes and shook her head. If it wasn’t that Caleb would come running to see what was wrong, she might have screamed her lungs out. Instead, she smacked her mattress with her fist. He just doesn’t get it! I don’t want to be his business partner and I don’t want to partner with him in a courtship, either! Why won’t he leave me alone? Our courtship is over! It’s in the past.
And that’s when it really sank in: she had forgiven Baker for stealing from her; she was no longer angry about that. She’d released him. But he hadn’t released her—and that was what was angering her now. For her own sake, as well as for his, she couldn’t put it off any longer; she was going to have to set him straight.
Rose dropped to her knees. Oh, Lord, she prayed. Please give me the words to express what I need to say, and please give Baker the ears to really hear me. I don’t want to hurt him, Gott...
After meditating a long time, Rose stood and pulled a sheet of paper from the drawer. “Dear Baker,” she began. “Thank you for your letters and for the payments. I do believe you are changing and growing. So am I, by God’s grace. While I honestly don’t hold any ill will toward you, neither do I have any interest in a courtship or a professional relationship with you in the future. But you will always be my brother in Christ, and because of that I’ll pray for God’s best for you. (For me, too!) Take care, Rose.”
After folding the letter and sliding it into an envelope, Rose changed into her nightgown and then stretched out on her bed. She expected she’d feel at peace now that she’d finally written to Baker. Instead, she felt agitated by her own words. Was staying single and owning a restaurant really Gott’s best for her? And if it was, why couldn’t she stop imagining what it would be like to have Caleb as her suitor?
* * *
Caleb had been calling his brother all evening, but Ryan wasn’t answering. It was eleven thirty in Maine, which meant it was ten thirty in Chicago. Why isn’t he picking up? He never misses our weekly calls. It was too hot to keep the windows and doors closed the way he usually did when he called Ryan, so Caleb reopened them. A rush of cool air lifted Caleb’s hair from his forehead. That was better, he thought as he sank into the armchair.
His thoughts turned to Rose, as they tended to do lately. Ever since she had apologized to him and he’d confided in her about his brother, Caleb had been tormented by his feelings for Rose. He’d never been in a relationship with a woman that involved the kind of emotional vulnerability he’d shared with her, and because of this closeness, a part of him regretted not kissing her when he’d had the chance.
But not kissing her had been the honorable thing to do. To not do. A hundred times a day Caleb reminded himself that no matter how drawn he was to Rose, he couldn’t deceive her by acting the way a boyfriend would act. Reminded himself that even if she were drawn to him, a courtship with her would be impossible. He might be able to hide it awhile longer, but eventually she’d find out he was Englisch and she’d be devastated. Caleb couldn’t hurt her like that, especially not after how Baker betrayed her trust. Then it occurred to Caleb he was betraying Rose’s trust himself—the difference was that she didn’t know about it.
And he’d do whatever he could to ensure she never found out, but that didn’t mean keeping his distance from her again. Today is August 6, which means I have a month left to spend with Rose and I’m going to make the most of it! Unfortunately, he also only had a month left to search for the coins, which had kept him so busy he wasn’t able to chat with Rose nearly as often as he wanted. Either he was busy searching the woods or making his way along the rocks on the shoreline near the cabins, or she was consumed by picking berries and rolling piecrusts.
“But tomorrow’s Suundaag,” he said aloud as he tapped the icon next to Ryan’s name on his cell phone. “Which means I can go canoeing with her...”
When his brother’s voice mail came on, Caleb disconnected, waited a few minutes and tried again, to no avail. Where could he be? Caleb envisioned Ryan being taken into custody, and he immediately began to pray for peace for himself and for his brother, wherever he was and whatever was happening to him. Not five minutes later, Caleb received a text saying, Sorry, can’t talk now. Everything’s OK. Can u call me tomorrow after church?
Sure. 2 EST, he texted back, perplexed but relieved Ryan was okay. Caleb pulled the Bible off the top of the dresser. Reading it had become his nightly practice, and it was such a source of wisdom and comfort he was glad he hadn’t brought any other books with him to Serenity Ridge.
It was past midnight when he turned off the lamp, but Caleb couldn’t turn off his thoughts; once again, they were mostly of Rose. Ach! I won’t be able to go canoeing with her tomorrow until after I call Ryan! The delay would set him back only a half hour or so, but even thirty minutes felt like a big loss when he considered how quickly summer was drawing to a close. At least I’ll get to ride home alone with her, he comforted himself before rolling over and finally dozing off to sleep.
On the way to church the following morning, Hope piped up from the back of the buggy, “We figure we ought to tell you this now, Rose and Caleb, before you hear it from someone else at kurrich. Last night at the carnival, a group of us bumped into Oliver Graham and his friends again.”
Although most Amish considered the carnival too worldly to attend, Caleb was aware it was a popular gathering place for Amish teens during their rumspringa. “Did he bother you?” he asked.
“Well, he didn’t do anything. But his onkel is a detective and Oliver overheard him talking on the phone last weekend at their familye reunion. Oliver said the law enforcement agencies are closing in on the thief, and when they find him, Mamm and Daed will be arrested for aiding and abetting a criminal.”
“That’s lecherich!” Rose and Caleb exclaimed in unison.
Charity added, “He said we have limited time to decide whether we’re more afraid of what the criminal will do if we turn him in or what a prosecutor will do if we conceal evidence.”
“Conceal evidence?” Rose scoffed. “What evidence?”
“According to Oliver, the stolen coins are hidden somewhere on our property and we know where they are but we’re using our religion as an excuse not to get involved.”
Caleb was incensed but Rose actually chuckled. “That’s narrish!”
“Jah, but not as narrish as Oliver’s friend, Clint Dale, telling everyone when he was hunting near our property last week he saw Mamm carrying a shovel through the woods,” Charity ranted. “He said she was probably moving the coins to a new hiding place so the thief could pick them up without being intercepted at our haus by the police.”
“I told him Mamm couldn’t possibly have done that because Mamm and Daed haven’t even been home for over a month.” Hope sounded smug about proving Clint wrong, but Caleb inwardly moaned, realizing she’d essentially announced the women were staying alone in the house.
Charity harrumphed. “You’d have thought that would have shut them—I mean stopped them from saying anything else. But Oliver suggested Mamm and Daed probably fled to Canada because they want to avoid the court system, just like the Amish avoid paying taxes.”
“But we do pay taxes!” Rose said, referring to the fact they essentially paid the same taxes as the Englisch except for Medicare, Social Security and self-and unemployment taxes, since the Amish didn’t collect those benefits. “That goes to show Oliver doesn’t have any idea what he’s talking about.”
Caleb broke in, “Regardless, I think it’s time I have a talk with Oliver’s onkel.”
“The detective? Why? Because of some ludicrous stories a couple buwe concocted to antagonize the meed?” Rose’s voice was high-pitched and wary. “You know that isn’t our way.”
“Not usually, neh, but this isn’t a familye matter or an issue between members of our kurrich that can be resolved with help from the bishop or deacon,” Caleb reasoned. “This is about our safety. If there’s a chance a criminal might return to the camp for stolen goods, we should be kept informed. Also, it’s possible law enforcement could send a police officer to keep watch on the camp for our protection.”
“Gott is protecting us!” Rose sputtered. “We don’t need any more police presence at the camp. Ant Nancy said it was very disruptive the first time. We heard rumors similar to this last month and nothing came of them.”
Caleb figured it was better not to argue on the way to church; better not to argue at all, especially since he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize spending an afternoon alone with Rose. He didn’t reply, and the girls’ conversation turned to the topic of the fish fry and canoe race coming up at the end of the month.
“How many leit do you think will kumme from Unity?” Hope asked Charity.
Charity’s reply was barely audible, but Caleb thought she said, “What you really want to know is whether Gideon’s cousin from Unity is coming, isn’t it?” Her question was followed by giggling and whispering that kept up until they arrived at church.
The deacon’s sermons usually captivated Caleb’s attention—he particularly appreciated hearing portions of the Bible read in German—but today he was engrossed in thinking about what Oliver had told Charity and Hope. Caleb couldn’t fathom any detective worth his salt discussing an ongoing investigation, but he could imagine Oliver being sneaky enough to eavesdrop on his uncle.
Yet how much of what Oliver said was an accurate representation of what he had possibly overheard and how much was fabricated? From other comments the teen had made to the twins, it was clear to Caleb he resented the Amish. But did that necessarily invalidate his remarks about law enforcement closing in on the thief? Or about the thief returning to the camp? Most of Oliver’s claims were outlandish, but a few had an element of plausibility. It was kind of like what he said about the Amish not paying taxes—he was partly wrong, yet partly right. Caleb stewed. Was he partly right about the situation with the coin thief, too?
As the twins expected, other parents had been told about the rumors, and while Caleb was eating lunch with the men after the worship service, Miriam Lapp’s father said, “We heard a young bu has been taunting Charity and Hope about their eldre, saying they’re linked to that matter the FBI was investigating this spring.”
“Jah, my suh told me the same thing last night,” Gideon Eicher’s father commented. “Such a shame to torment the twins like that, especially when their daed is so sick.”
Caleb was glad the subject was out in the open. Now he could solicit the men’s advice about whether or not he ought to talk to Oliver’s uncle. “What do you think I should do about it?” he asked.
“Remind them to avoid the bu. To walk in the other direction if they see him coming. It takes two to argue.”
Caleb hadn’t meant what should he do about the girls interacting with Oliver—he meant what should he do if what Oliver said was true.
Abram seemed to have caught the gist of Caleb’s question. “Are you concerned there might actually be a criminal returning to the camp?”
Caleb tried to sound nonchalant. “It has crossed my mind, jah.”
“Have you seen anyone suspicious on the property, or has anything out of the ordinary happened?”
Caleb racked his memory. Twigs snapping in the woods. A canoe floating away. An open drawer... Each of these occurrences could have a logical explanation, and he’d seem foolish if he told the other men about them. “Neh, not really,” he admitted.
“Then I don’t think you ought to do anything at this time except pray. Let’s do that now.” Caleb and the deacon bowed their heads, as did the other men at the table. “Lord, we ask Your protection for Charity, Hope, Rose and Caleb. Protect them from fear, as well as from danger. Give them strength to respond with grace to those who might wish to trouble them. We ask for healing for Sol, too. Denki, Lord for being our very present help in trouble. Amen.”
Abram clapped Caleb’s shoulder, adding, “I’m glad you’re staying at the camp—I know Sol feels better you’re there, too. And I think it’s wise to be vigilant. We’ll stop by from time to time to check in, but if there’s anything you need before then, let us know.”
Caleb appreciated the support and vote of confidence. He was also comforted because instead of suggesting Caleb lacked faith or was overreacting, Abram recommended remaining vigilant. But Caleb realized it was Abram’s prayer, above all, that had given him a sense of real peace.
When he returned home and called his brother, Caleb heard a woman giggling in the background, along with Liam’s laughter. Who could that be? “It sounds like you have company.”
“No, not company. Sheryl’s here. We just got back from church and we’re getting ready to eat lunch. We, uh, camped out together last night—all three of us, in a tent in the backyard. That’s why I didn’t pick up. I forgot all about our scheduled call and left my phone in the house. I happened to notice it vibrating when I went inside to use the bathroom.”
Caleb was happy Ryan and Sheryl seemed to have found some common ground so Liam wouldn’t have to listen to their incessant arguing. He told Ryan the latest news and asked if his brother had heard similar rumors.
“No, no one has updated me about anything recently, so as far as I know, the investigation is still open. Waiting is agony. Thank the Lord I have Liam and Sheryl to distract me,” Ryan said, which surprised Caleb. He didn’t think going through a divorce was considered a welcome distraction. His brother hedged, “You don’t suppose it’s possible that...”
“That what?”
“That Nancy and Sol really do know more than they’ve been letting on?”
“No!” Caleb barked. There were many
questionable possibilities in his mind, but Nancy and Sol’s truthfulness was not one of them. He lowered his voice to repeat, “No. Absolutely not. The Amish might not actively seek out the police for matters they can resolve on their own, but they’re law-abiding citizens. More important, they obey God’s law, which means if they were questioned, they wouldn’t lie—especially not to protect a criminal. I’m as sure about that as I am about...about the fact you’re not the thief!”
“Okay, okay, I hear you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to question their integrity, I only wanted to rule that possibility out,” Ryan apologized.
“That’s the problem. How can you and I rule anything out—or in? What do we really have to go on? A cryptic, anonymous note? Something a teenage kid said? Conjecture?” Caleb usually tried to put a positive spin on the situation in order to buoy his brother’s hope, but right now he was having difficulty keeping his own perspective afloat. Summer was wrapping up and Caleb felt he was no closer to discovering anything worthwhile than when he’d first arrived.
“Maybe you should go have a chat with that detective. Get a sense of what’s what. Find out if you’re in any jeopardy. It’s possible the police want to surveil the camp but out of respect for the Amish, they’re not.”
“I can’t,” Caleb said, remembering how aghast Rose had been at the idea. “It’s not the Amish way and I’d draw attention to myself. I can’t blow my cover now.” I can’t ever blow my cover.
“Hey, listen, as much as I’d love for you to find the coins, I don’t want you to take any unnecessary chances.” Ryan’s voice cracked. “I’d rather go to prison than have anything happen to you, Caleb.”
Startled by the intensity of his brother’s sentiment, Caleb made light of his concerns, which had been his concerns, too, until the deacon prayed for him. “What could possibly happen? For all we know, the note you got was a ploy to distract everyone while the thief was taking off for Mexico. And while he was on his road trip, he probably spent the coins in every vending machine between Chicago and Cancún!” When Ryan didn’t laugh, Caleb grew serious again. “Even if what Oliver Graham told the girls about the thief coming back is true, there’s nothing to suggest he plans to harm anyone. The heist was a white-collar crime. The thief is greedy, not violent.”
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