Ties That Bind (24 page)

“No rush.” Isaac sounded grateful. He and Lovina probably needed time to talk openly without him there and without any chance of family overhearing them.

Quill hopped out and closed the door. “Hello.”

“Why, Quill?” Ariana's whisper was haunting. “I…I don't understand.”

Her voice quavered, and emotions from deep within him rushed to the surface, threatening to take control of him. She was the length of a football field away with no idea he was nearby. Should he walk to her? He stared into the starless night, searching the vast blackness for answers as he prayed for wisdom. “What's going on, Ariana?”

“I thought we were building a bridge between your life on the outside and mine, one we could cross as needed for your Mamm's sake. But that's not at all what's been happening, so please just go away and leave my family alone.”

Just politely end the call and get her parents out of here.
Despite what he should do, he walked toward the phone shanty. With neither long strides nor timid ones, he headed for her like a fish being reeled in.

Had she learned what was going on with her parents? He kept his cards close to his vest and gave no information that might tip his hand, which meant she had to be the one to talk. “Take a breath and tell me what you are talking about.”

“Salome. How could you let me think I was on the right track?”

“I thought you knew. You said she changed her mind about leaving.”

“I was talking about Susie! You knew that!”

“Actually, I didn't. You only referred to her as your sister, and I thought you meant Salome.”

“It's constant secrecy with you. Why couldn't you just tell me it was Salome?”

He stopped outside the open door. “I'm bound by confidentiality.”

She wheeled around, her eyes filled with raw anger and maybe hope that he would find a solution. How was he going to help Salome, Emanuel, and their five children—Ariana's nieces and nephews—leave in the middle of what Lovina and Isaac needed to reveal to her? Maybe she was their biological daughter, but before DNA testing was done, they would have to tell her what might have happened the night she was born.

“Bound by secrecy?” She dropped the phone into its cradle. “The rest of us are bound by love, and you chain your life to secrecy? Why would you do that to yourself?”

If he opened up to her even a little, he feared he wouldn't be able to stop himself from saying too much. “I'm sorry, Ariana. I really am.” He slid his phone into his pocket and stepped into the shanty. “I don't know what else to say to you.” He went around her to the phone. He pushed an arrow, making the last number dialed—his number—come up on the screen, and then he deleted it.

She stared up at him, wide eyed and innocent in her anger. The cape dress didn't hide her curves any more than the reserve of the Old Ways could hide the intensity that was pent up inside her. Underneath all the gentle restraint, she was a fighter of causes. How many times had that high-spirited determination pulled him from his darkest days following his Daed's death? The light from the kerosene lamp danced against the soft skin of her cheeks.

Her brow furrowed, and she reached for the braided cord around his neck, tugging at it until it was free of his T-shirt. It was his most cherished possession. Disbelief etched across her face. She ran her fingers down the three-strand cord until she was cradling the silver medallion. She had cut three long strands of rawhide and braided them. Each one had a meaning—one cord represented God, one her, and one Quill. And she'd intertwined them because, as the book of Ecclesiastes said, “a threefold cord is not quickly broken.” The medallion had been forged from a silver spoon, and she'd drilled a hole in the center and carved angled braid marks across the round surface. He wasn't sure how she'd managed some of the intricacies, and he doubted she could replicate it if given years to do so.

Holding the silver piece, she shook her head. “I…I don't understand you.”

How could she? He had shared everything with her until he learned the secret that shattered their future. Then he focused on what had to be done next, shutting her out of his plans. “You don't have to understand me to trust that no matter what's happening, I'm on your side.”

He could see the battle inside her—to believe him or herself. Despite all her strength and determination, she still had a fragile innocence that needed protecting.

She traced the faux braiding on the silver piece before looking up again. “I don't think you understand what it means to be on someone's side. You're too busy marching to the beat of your own drummer and getting others to march with you.” She released the necklace and walked out.

He drew a breath and tried to clear his head. There seemed to be no right words when it came to Ariana, and even the ones that would tell the complete truth wouldn't give her the answers she wanted.

Was she unknowingly heading straight for the car? He rushed ahead of her, turned around to face her, and caught her arm. “The only drumbeat I march to is my belief that every person has the right to serve God without any manmade rules dictating the believers' actions—just people and God communicating through prayer and scripture. There should be no interference by the Ordnung unless the believer trusts that's God's will for them.”

“With the freedoms you champion, are you free? Has your liberty filled you with more peace than the Old Ways?”

“Life isn't that simple, Ari. Giving people the ability to follow their consciences is the right thing to do, and its success can't be measured by whether I feel free or have peace.”

“Maybe that works for someone like you, but Salome is in no state of mind to make this kind of decision. Emanuel would do anything to help her. Surely you can see that.”

“I see, but perhaps she needs to get away from the community that pressured her against her will, against her mother's intuition.”

“Perhaps? You intend for her to sever all ties between her and her family based on
perhaps
?”

“I can't judge what Salome does or doesn't need. Neither can you. The decision is between her, Emanuel, and God.”

Ariana pressed her fingertips against her forehead, shaking with clear exasperation and growling. “You're infuriating.”

He was sure of that, especially from her very limited perspective of what he did and why. “My best advice is that you not approach Salome. If you make waves, if you make her feel more pressure, she could choose to leave tomorrow.”

“Great.” She thrust out both arms, fingers splayed. “Then I did exactly all the wrong things, didn't I?”

What had she done? Could he undo it? He'd spent the better part of two years trying to help Salome and Emanuel navigate the bitterness while giving them hope that they could escape when the time was right.

They'd sold their house and moved back home. When she found out she was expecting, Quill was able to slow their plans to leave. Now they'd had the baby, and Salome was bouncing back quicker than he'd planned. Quill had only so much power to delay a departure.

“Go home, Ariana. Apologize to Salome. Tell her that you'll love her no matter what her decision is. And don't bring up the subject again.”

“You want me to give her a guilt-free pass to leave? I won't do it.”

“Everyone has the right to choose.”

“They have chosen! They joined the faith more than a decade ago. They promised to uphold the Old Ways. Have you forgotten?”

“They were nineteen, and they'd spent their entire lives being convinced it was necessary to do so to be saved.”

“That's not what the preachers teach.”

“It's part of it, and it's what Salome and many others heard. You've sat under the teachings. How many believe that joining the Amish faith is the only straight and narrow way?”

“For good reason. Have you seen what it's like out there, the loose morals?”

He had, but whatever existed out there also existed among the Amish. Ariana just didn't know much about that. “Salome and Emanuel's desire to leave has nothing to do with embracing loose morals. Look, I want Salome and Emanuel to do what's best for them and their family. We're not far apart on this topic.”

“Except you're holding the door wide open for them.”

“That's not an accurate depiction. It's where we differ, Ariana. I don't think I know what's best for others.”

“Sure you do. You simply go about exercising your beliefs in a different way than the Amish.”

She had some reasonable points, but they couldn't have a true debate on this topic unless she knew information that he would never divulge, so it was time to stop the circular argument. “Regardless of how differently we view things, I promise I'm on your side concerning Emanuel and Salome
and
the café. We can't control what anyone chooses to do. So focus on what you can control—your future business. Have the benefit. Draw Salome into helping you. Maybe that will make a difference for her.”

“You think so?” There it was again—hope that he could help her.

“I know that working to buy the café won't harm Salome's desire to stay, and I know you need that place as much as it needs you.”

She stared into his eyes, looking for truth.

“So”—he moved his hand to her forearm and wrist, holding it tightly—“we find ourselves needing to call another truce.”

“It's more like we need to cross a shaky bridge of unknowns together.”

She used to have nightmares about crossing bridges as they collapsed, so he understood what she meant. “Okay, we have a bridge to cross. Can you find it in yourself to trust me so we can work together?” How ironic that he had to ask that question as he blocked her view of his car and her parents.

Thoughts of her parents in his car made him hate how much he had to keep from her. When would they tell her what happened the day she was born? Tomorrow? Next week? He didn't know, but it wasn't his place to reveal such news.

His heart raced as she stared at his hand, wavering about whether to trust him. “Despite the apparent outward betrayal of what I've done, Ari, what does your gut tell you is true?”

Her eyes bore into his, and he couldn't help but smile. They were together and talking, working through the train wreck he'd caused. And yet, if Ariana knew the truth, she would understand that he'd been an innocent bystander who had tried to be a good Samaritan.

He wanted to pull her close and demand that she trust him and open her eyes. But of all the lessons he'd learned thus far, the one carved the deepest was that he could not will a person to do anything. He could only present what he knew to be true.

A whispery sound of acceptance, perhaps a short laugh at the absurdity of where they found themselves, fell from Ari's lips. “Okay,” she breathed, clasping her hand around his arm in the same manner.

The moment washed over him, one he'd never imagined could happen. “Good.”

But her trust in him was probably as easily broken as a twig underfoot.

F
rom the backseat of Quill's car, Lovina stared as the two shadows in the distance parted ways. The girl hurried across the field. Quill returned to the phone shanty. A moment later the light went out, and then he strode toward the car.

Isaac shifted, craning his neck. “You think that was Ariana?”

That's what Lovina had said ten minutes earlier. “What other woman would Quill allow to wag a finger at him? Who else would he then stand toe-to-toe with, talking for any length of time?”

“Why would she be out here?”

“To fight with him about helping the Amish leave.” If anyone could get Quill to change his ways, it was Ariana.

“You think he told her about the night she was born?” Isaac asked.

“Nee. He wouldn't.” Did her husband know Quill at all?

From the time Quill was young, he was quiet and willful. When he spoke, it was clear he'd first thought carefully. He seemed to have a level of intelligence that she'd never seen in anyone else, and it unnerved her. Other traits came to mind too, like integrity. Still, she didn't like him…or maybe she just didn't like what he did. But observing him now, she couldn't see him as someone who'd broken her daughter's heart while running off with another girl. She saw a man committed to leaving her young daughter's life intact.

He opened the car door, and without a word they were soon on their way again.

Wasn't he going to say anything about why they'd stopped? Should they ask him about it?

Lovina had been shocked when he ran off with Frieda. The girl was sweet, but her health was poor, and sickness chipped away at her emotional stability until her only strength seemed to be what Quill could do for her. The more Lovina saw of him and tried to piece together what she knew firsthand with what the rumors said surrounding his Daed's death, the less she understood what had happened to make him leave as he did. Whatever had happened, she had watched as the rumors and his actions mutilated his reputation.

The car hit a bump, pulling her from the rambling thoughts. Quill stopped the vehicle in front of the oversized, dilapidated shed on the far side of his Mamm's property. He jumped out, leaving the vehicle running as he unlocked and opened the shed doors. He returned to the car and drove it inside next to their carriage. Their horse was in a small stall with feed and water, and Lovina wondered how many Amish people had met Quill here over the years. People's ability to disappear during the night made more sense now. How much did his Mamm know of what went on?

“Kumm.” Isaac motioned for her.

Lovina grabbed the sack with her clothes and got out of the car. Her mind was every bit as weary as her body. She felt as if her heart were walking through a thick fog, dragging her mind and body with it. The horse lifted its head, looking at them inquisitively. Sadly, she didn't have much more insight into what was going on than the animal did.

The inside of the building was lined with black roofing paper. When Quill lit the kerosene lantern, no light escaped to the outside. The faithful Amish weren't likely to think that a run-down shed would be used as a meeting or communication place.

Isaac glanced at Lovina, and she knew what was on his mind. They would need Quill's help again when they were ready to contact Brandi, have DNA testing done, and whatever else would become a part of this awful journey. What little she knew about DNA came from a lifetime of hearing about genetic disorders among the Amish. The Amish had their own Plain clinic for children with genetic issues, but they wouldn't need that service.

With keys in hand, Quill gestured toward the open shed door. “I'll step outside, and you two can change. Once you leave in your carriage, I'll lock the shed.”

Their world was falling apart, and he continued to speak matter-of-factly as if none of what was happening affected him. She supposed it didn't. Quill remained in place, perhaps waiting for one of them to ask another question or nod, saying it was okay for him to leave. They did neither.

Isaac stepped forward. “Was that Ariana you were talking to?”

Quill looked at the toe of his boot as he used it to tamp down some dirt. “It will be very difficult to keep what's going on to yourselves, but it's best to say as little as possible to as few people as possible. The last thing Ariana needs is to overhear gossip about this. You want to be the ones to tell her at the right time.”

Isaac blinked several times, looking a bit baffled, but she wasn't surprised that Quill didn't even acknowledge her husband's question.

Quill fidgeted with the keys, rattling them in the palm of his hand. “Isaac, when you talk to the ministers about Ariana and the benefit, be aware that if they catch wind of the situation with Skylar, they could try to remove from your hands what little control you have in this situation.”

Lovina hadn't thought that far ahead, but he was right. If the ministers learned about any of the compromises she and Isaac had made tonight, they would be held accountable. Riding with someone who had left the community as Quill had was forbidden. A baptized member dressing like the Englisch was forbidden. What would be allowed concerning Skylar and Ariana? It wasn't as if anyone Amish had ever encountered a similar scenario.

Quill pushed the car keys into his jeans pocket. “When you talk to them, say that buying the café is about what your family needs, and God has given Ariana the dream and skill for it. Do you feel that's a true statement?”

“Ya.” Lovina nodded. “The café would mean a lot to all of us.”

“Good.” Quill looked pleased. “Both of you have been very faithful to help every cause the ministers have brought to you over the years. Remind them of specific incidents, and explain how this is similar. Assure them you now need their help. They're good men, and if you tug on their heartstrings before anyone gets a chance to stir up strife against Ariana having a benefit, you'll win the battle.”

Isaac fidgeted with his Englisch shirt, apparently ready to get out of it. “What you've said is gut. Denki.”

Quill nodded and walked out, closing the double-wide doors behind him. Lovina set the bag of clothes on the trunk of his car. She had pulled her hair back in a ponytail of sorts and brushed her hair in a way that removed the part down the middle. She and Isaac would get home around one in the morning. Did her hair need to be fixed in order to walk through her home and to her bedroom? She supposed that depended on whether they would bump into one of their children along the way. At least Quill had briefed them on how to answer honestly and yet tell them nothing. He suggested saying things like “we were out…together.” And then he said to smile as if it had been a wonderful evening. He called it the no-lie, no-facts zone.

No sharing honestly with her family? What an awful position to be in.

She heard the muted sound of a man's voice outside the shed. Was Quill talking to someone?

She and Isaac froze. Had whoever was out there already heard them moving around inside the shed?

“You know the agreement.” Quill's tone was calm and firm. “You shouldn't be here right now. I need you to say not a word, not one. Just return home immediately. We'll talk tomorrow.”

“We have to talk!” Sobs escaped a raspy voice.

Isaac's eyes met Lovina's, and he mouthed the words
Is that Salome?
Lovina's heart began thudding in her ears. If it was Salome…

Lovina's knees threatened to give way. If it was Salome, Isaac had been wrong. He had been so sure and had even convinced Lovina that any rumors about a child of theirs leaving the Amish were just that—rumors. Pain shot through her chest, and she knew she couldn't take much more.

“Ariana knows!” the voice said.

Isaac's eyes grew wide, and Lovina supposed he was realizing the same things she was.

“I'm aware,” Quill answered softly.

Isaac went to the doors and pushed them open, apparently willing to reveal their presence. As he and Lovina walked outside, they saw Quill clearly directing Salome and Emanuel away from the shed, and they were about to get into the carriage.

“Salome?” Isaac's voice held complete disbelief. “What's going on?”

Salome turned, looking completely baffled. “Daed, Mamm, why are you dressed like that, and what are you doing here?”

Steely exasperation flashed through Quill's eyes before he motioned for all of them to go into the shed. He then closed the doors behind them, appearing for a moment as if he would like to lecture all four of them. But Lovina couldn't tolerate the questions pounding her.

What did Ariana know? Why were Salome and Emanuel here? How did they know to meet Quill here? It was too much to have two daughters under her roof whose lives were shrouded in secrets.

Quill leaned against the trunk of his car. “Before anyone speaks, think. You cannot un-tell something.”

Lovina knew there was only one reason for Salome and Emanuel to have this kind of contact with Quill Schlabach. “You're planning to leave, aren't you?”

“What?” Isaac's eyes widened as he looked from his wife to his oldest daughter. “That's not possible. They're only here because…because…Why are you here?”

Salome's face showed desperation and embarrassment.

Emanuel put his arm around her shoulders. “We didn't want you to find out this way.”

“You can't.” Isaac moved in front of his daughter, facing her. “Please.”

Guilt shrouded Salome's face. “This isn't a frivolous decision, and we will stick to our plan.”

Isaac paced the floor. “If nothing else, at least tell us you won't leave soon, for your Mamm's sake and Ariana's. There's too much happening for us to bear one more heartache.” His voice cracked.

Salome held her newborn close, looking completely baffled. “Does that mean you know where Ariana is?”

Isaac turned to Quill, desperation in his eyes. “Have you seen her?”

Quill nodded. “She's on her way home.”

Salome breathed a sigh of relief. “It's my fault she sought out Quill. She discovered our intentions earlier today, and we argued over it.”

Isaac's face turned red. “I can't believe you'd plan to steal away during the night. Why, Salome?”

“Daed, we're suffocating under the rules. My daughter's face is scarred for life because the church frowned on skin grafts. It wasn't their decision to make!”

“They didn't make that decision. You had a choice. Medical decisions are left up to the family.”

“You say that now, but there wasn't any support for what I thought was best. Everyone quoted the Ordnung and scolded us about not trusting God's will. The constant pressure to do things according to the Old Ways came from everyone—except Ariana.”

Isaac grabbed his forehead. “Maybe we did do that, and maybe we were wrong. We need to talk and—”

“No.” Salome held up a hand. “I won't listen to one more word about how I need to submit to what everyone else thinks I ought to do or not do.”

Isaac rubbed his forehead. “You can't leave now. We need you. Ariana needs you.”

“What are you talking about?” Salome asked.

Isaac nodded, and then he gestured from Quill to Salome. Explaining the events was just too difficult right now, so they listened as Quill laid out what might have happened the night Ariana and Skylar were born.

Salome reacted with shock and tears as she engulfed Lovina, and it brought a welcomed sense of camaraderie between mother and daughter. Lovina prayed that somehow, through all that lay ahead, Salome and Emanuel would decide that family was more important than any reasons they had for leaving.