A Perfect Square Read online

  They had talked for twenty minutes, long enough for Callie to be sure this wasn’t a woman trying to take advantage of Ira. Yes, Gavin had convinced Callie that she needed to be careful, and Callie valued Gavin’s opinion.

  As if Faith’s Amish clothing and humble demeanor weren’t convincing enough.

  “It’s an odd feeling to think of seeing your dat after all these years.”

  “We don’t know for sure, Faith. What I mean is, I don’t want you to build your hopes up and then — “

  “Dear, you needn’t worry about that. This had been in Gotte’s hands for longer than you have been alive. Since I was a wee one and those black funnels fell from the sky.” She stared out the car window, at the clouds that had begun to gather. “Even after so many years, it’s not something you forget. The particulars maybe, but not the faces — I still remember the terror, the fear, wandering about, and then …”

  She stopped and the most angelic of smiles covered her face. “Then two arms wrapped around me. I never will forget that.”

  She reached for the door handle. “Let’s go inside. Shall we?”

  “Yes, but Faith. I haven’t told Ira who you are. I just said I was stopping by. I didn’t want … that is, I didn’t want to raise his hopes either.”

  “I understand.” Faith reached across, patted Callie’s hand where it rested on the seat between them. “You’re a gut freind to him.”

  Then she made her way out of the car, and Callie found she had to rush to keep up.

  Erin Troyer sat in the front hall, knitting, this time with blue and yellow yarn.

  “Baby blanket?”

  “Yes. One of the workers here has a boppli on the way this month.” Erin finished her row, then set her knitting aside. “And who did you bring with you today, Miss Callie?”

  “This is Faith from Goshen. We’ve come to see Ira.”

  Erin studied them both for a moment, then nodded once. “Gut. That’s gut. Ira was hoping for company today.”

  “Is he in the barn?” Callie asked.

  “No. After the horse episode, doc says he’s to stay away from the barn for a week or so. Ira’s on the back patio shelling walnuts. Don’t believe he’s happy about that. Yes, he’ll be glad to have some company.” Then Erin picked up her knitting and began another row.

  Callie led Faith toward the patio. Her own heart was pounding hard enough to set off a monitor alarm. She wondered how Faith was doing. When she glanced over at her though, the expression on Faith’s face seemed peaceful enough: focused, lost in thought, perhaps lost in memories of years ago.

  As they stepped out into the enclosed patio area, Callie thought she saw the briefest of smiles soften her features.

  Ira was sitting in the midst of several women.

  He appeared to be muttering to himself, and his expression was frozen in a scowl. Then he glanced up and saw Callie. “Tell me you brought Max today. They’re forcing me to sit here with all these hens — shelling black walnuts like I’m old and feeble!”

  The women around him shared a tolerant look that told Callie they’d heard it all before. They said good morning, then vacated a few chairs.

  “Ira, I brought someone to meet you this morning.”

  “Hmph.” Ira focused on the bowl of walnuts in his lap.

  “This is Faith. She’s from Goshen.”

  Ira’s hands stilled over the nuts. He glanced up, as if he was going to wave Faith away, but something in the way she stepped forward caused him to pause and look at her more closely.

  As he did, he reached for his cane, which was never far from his side. Reached for it and ran his hands along the smoothness of the wood, until he found the symbols at the top, traced the cross, the hammer, and the nail.

  Faith watched his fingers, her eyes glued to the cane, to the engraving. She tried to speak, swallowed once, her hand at her throat, and Callie could see that she was having a hard time maintaining her composure.

  “Sit here, Faith. I’ll find you a glass of water,” Callie offered.

  There was a pitcher and some glasses on a cart in the corner. When she returned with one, Faith and Ira were still staring at each other. Faith sipped the water, set it down on the patio table, and finally reached for Ira’s cane. “May I, please?”

  He released it reluctantly.

  She ran her hands over the three items, engraved in a row but touching at the corners, forming a ring that circled the top of the cane. Tears pooling in her eyes, she said, “I remember my dat — my real dat — had one of these. He used to let me hold it as we rode in the buggy.”

  “I had that specially made by my brother-in-law back in 1940 when I hurt my knee jumping down from a wagon. He died in the twisters, died with so many others, though we were spared here in Shipshe.” Ira scooted forward in his chair. “Beth? Child? Come closer.” Ira’s hands began to shake as he reached for Faith. “Is that you?”

  Faith went down on her knees beside his chair, tears falling, burying her face in his hands so that Callie barely heard when she said, “It’s been many years since anyone has called me by that name.”

  There had never been a time when Callie had wished for a talent she didn’t have. Oh, she would like to be able to quilt as Deborah and Esther and Melinda did. She’d like to be able to make the perfect square and turn that square into the perfect quilt.

  But at that moment, as she watched Faith kneel at her father’s side after decades of separation, as the sun poured in through the clouds that had yet to completely cover the sky, as Ira took one shaky, wrinkled hand and placed it over her head, Callie wished with all of her heart that she had the ability to paint.

  If she did, if she could, she would have painted that scene.

  She would have painted love.

  Chapter 30

  SAMUEL LOOKED OUT over the clouds that were building on the horizon. Tomorrow’s storm would be a big one. Wish that it could wash the earth clean. That it could wash his soul clean.

  Such wishes were the dreams of children though.

  And Samuel had left all such childish things behind.

  As he watched Katie’s sisters play in the last of the sun’s light, he wondered if the ache in his heart would ever ease. She wasn’t coming back. He’d managed to convince her parents that she was on her rumspringa. But to what good? He couldn’t bring back their daughter.

  How many mistakes had he made since the day they’d left?

  And why couldn’t some things be redone …

  Samuel walked from the bathroom into the bedroom, but Katie wasn’t there. The smell of breakfast came from the kitchen, which surprised him. Where had she found dishes, or food, for that matter? For the last three days, they’d mostly been living off of dry goods and the leftovers that Reuben had been smuggling to them.

  Samuel didn’t like living like this, on the sly, but tomorrow he’d report for work. Then they could find a proper place to live, and after that they could formally join the community. If they went home now, what would change? Life would continue as it had before, with no hope of their lot improving. They would be trapped under Timothy’s strong hand.

  No. Better to hide now, for a few more days. He couldn’t risk them being seen by someone who had done business with Timothy, someone who might send word back home. Timothy was persuasive. Samuel had watched him change Katie’s mind before. What if it happened again? What if it happened now, when they were almost free of the old house and Timothy’s old ways? What if he lost her? Samuel wanted to have Katie settled in a new area before her dat learned of their marriage. Otherwise he might convince her to come home.

  Now where was that smell coming from? Either he was dreaming or there was kaffi and bacon in the kitchen.

  Samuel walked down the hall, his boots clomping against the wood boards of the floor. When he stepped into the room, one of the prettiest sights he’d ever seen met his eyes.

  His wife, Katie, standing on a kitchen chair, reaching up onto a top shelf. She wore the green
dress that she’d sewn for her winter wardrobe and a freshly pressed white kapp. She had brought two new dresses — the blue she’d married in, and the green she wore this morning. Both looked lovely, and he marveled again at what a beautiful bride she was.

  Instead of helping her, he crossed his arms, leaned against the wall, and watched.

  She stood on tiptoe and pulled something from the top shelf.

  “What did you find there, Katie bug?”

  “Samuel, gudemariye.” Katie smiled over her shoulder, looking as fresh as the first snowfall of the year.

  “Gudemariye to you. Have you been discovering bacon in the cabinets?”

  “No, silly. The cabinets are gorgeous though, just like you said.” She ran her hand down the front panel.

  Jealousy sparked as she complimented the woodwork, which was ridiculous. He’d show her that he could do work just as good.

  “I need to be going, if you’re done messing around on that chair.” The words came out sharper than he intended.

  “Oh, all right. I was looking for plates, and I saw something winking down at me from the top shelf.”

  “We don’t have time for that — “ His exasperation grew. He’d thought breakfast was ready. They had much to do today. Tomorrow he’d be gone at work. Today was their last full day together.

  “Look, it’s a key on a string, not plates. Now why do you think someone would store a key on a top shelf?”

  She was so like a child sometimes. She pivoted in the chair and held it out like a prize.

  “Older folks never do lock the doors. I suppose whoever lived here before kept it up there and forgot about it. Put it back and come down. “

  “I should give it to Reuben. He probably doesn’t know it’s here.” She settled the string around her neck, looking down to see how long the string was.

  “Katie! I said put it back.” His voice rising, Samuel stepped forward, and that was when three things happened at once.

  The first thing is that the bacon on the stove began to burn.

  Then Reuben drove by the window in his horse and buggy. Samuel would wonder later if it had startled her. But he would never learn.

  Because the third thing was that Katie took one step backward.

  Even though there was no chair for her to step on.

  Chapter 31

  CALLIE LOCKED AND CLOSED THE SHOP for the day. Detouring to the little kitchen, she returned with a tray of teas, hot water, and a plate of cookies.

  “Now tell me all about your visit,” she said. “I know you’re tired, but I want to hear everything.”

  Faith swiped at her gray hair and smiled. “Oh, I’m not that tired. I’m still in a bit of shock. To think that I have family, after all these years.” She stopped, selected a tea bag, and took her time unwrapping it.

  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” she finally confessed.

  “It didn’t sound any way.”

  “I love my kinner and my grandkinner, but it’s a different thing to realize that everyone before you is gone.” Looking up from the tea, she met Callie’s gaze. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Is that why you found me? Why you wouldn’t give up?”

  Callie reached down and patted Max. “I’d like to say it was something so honorable, but truthfully I’m a stubborn person. Once I start unraveling a thing, I have a hard time letting it go until I’ve reached the end of the — “

  A knock on the door startled them both, but Max only stretched and padded over to see who it was.

  “Must be someone we know or he would have barked,” Callie said. “Wait here and rest while I shoo them away.”

  But when she looked through the pane of glass, she saw that it was Deborah. Rather than shooing, Callie opened the door and threw her arms around her best friend. “How is he? How’s Reuben? Did he even agree to see you this time?”

  “Yes, for a minute. He’s no different. No better. Things don’t look gut,” Deborah admitted.

  Callie nodded, then clasped her hand and pulled her back toward the circle of chairs. “There’s someone I want you to meet. Faith, this is Deborah Yoder, who I’ve told you so much about. Deborah, meet my new friend, Faith, from Goshen.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Deborah murmured.

  “Callie has told me a lot about you. Apparently you saved her from complete starvation, not to mention a life of misery and solitude back in Houston.”

  Deborah smiled as she sank into one of the chairs. “She’s prone to exaggeration, if you haven’t noticed.”

  “Guilty — a little. Now tell me, are the children with your sister?” Callie perched on the arm of a chair.

  “Ya. Joshua is still teething. Adalyn and I were trying to work on a defense with Reuben, but we’re not having much luck. It’s why I’m out so late. I had Adalyn drop me off here. I told her you’d give me a ride home. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Not at all. I’m glad you came by.” Callie popped off the chair and turned toward the kitchen. “Let me grab an extra cup so you can have some tea. You’re not in a hurry are you?”

  “I probably should be, but I’m too tired.”

  “Then one cup of tea and we’ll go. Faith’s driver is on her way.” Callie returned with the mug and passed it to Deborah. “Faith was about to tell me about reuniting with her father, Mr. Bontrager.”

  “So it’s true? He’s your dat?”

  Faith ran her finger over the rim of her mug. “Ya, there’s not any doubt about it. He was quite lucid this morning, and we were able to piece together what happened — and then there’s the cane. That alone proved it for me.” She gave them the brief version of the visit with her father, though several times she stopped midsentence and appeared unable to continue.

  Callie didn’t doubt that much of the visit was still too precious, too raw to share.

  “It’s a miracle how the Lord was able to bring you two back together, and I know it’s a balm in his life.” Deborah sipped her tea, studying Faith as she spoke.

  “Well, it isn’t only a blessing to him. My parents passed on several years ago, and I’ve been a widow now for five years. I had no bruders or schweschdern, because my mamm wasn’t able to have children. It’s part of what makes this such a miraculous thing. Mr. Bontrager, my father, is the last tie to my past.”

  “And now you have an entire family you didn’t know about,” Callie said, her voice filled with awe.

  “Yes, if they’re willing to accept me.”

  Callie thought she might say more, but she reached for an oatmeal cookie instead and nibbled around the edge.

  “It might take time,” Deborah suggested.

  “Ya. You’re right. And it’s not as if they’re rude. Just a bit shocked.” Faith set her half-eaten cookie on her plate and looked at them with a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Time is something I have, and my own family has been very supportive. I’m not alone, remember. I do have four lovely children and twelve grandkinner.”

  “But to have a bruder would be a real blessing,” Deborah said.

  “Yes. I think Caleb is hesitant to accept me, but perhaps the idea of having more family will grow on him. His wife seemed uncertain too.”

  “Because you’re from Goshen maybe?” Callie asked.

  “No. Probably it was the shock, and then they’re so protective of their dat. He’s a truly lovely man.”

  Deborah shook her head. “I owe you an apology. I kept telling Callie to let it go. Kept telling her she’d never figure it out and that it was a waste of her time, but now look. God had a purpose in Mr. Bontrager’s stumbling in here.”

  “I’m stubborn,” Callie admitted for the second time.

  “Ya, you are.” Deborah agreed, but instead of smiling a frown creased her forehead.

  Callie waited for Deborah to say more. When she didn’t, Callie reached forward and gave Max an affectionate scratch behind the ears. “It’s no different than you with Reuben�
��s situation though. You won’t give up. You’re determined to stay with him, and see this through. No matter how bad things look.”

  When Deborah heard Callie’s words, they bounced around in her mind for a while. “No matter how bad things look.”

  Perhaps it was true. Perhaps Deborah had been too focused on how bad things looked. She suddenly had the oddest feeling that she’d overlooked something obvious.

  But what?

  It was like when the twins were engaged in some activity they shouldn’t be — those pigs for instance, which they were slowly training to like mud. It had become quite the family project, and truthfully it was good for the twins. For all Deborah knew they’d grow up to become prosperous pig farmers.

  She had a sixth sense though for when something was amiss.

  Jonas called it her mother’s instinct.

  The house would become unnaturally quiet, and Deborah would know she should go and check on the twins. Often she didn’t though. Even after years of experience, even though she knew better, she’d wait and pretend everything was fine — even when her natural warning system was screaming at her to go see what was occupying the boys’ attention.

  Even though she knew her instinct could be, and should be, trusted, she often ignored it.

  She was having just such a moment now.

  Her instincts were screaming at her.

  But what was she missing?

  “I don’t know any of the details about the trouble you’re going through with your freind,” Faith said. “But I am sorry to hear he is suffering. From the little I’ve heard since this morning, people think highly of him.”

  “Ya, Reuben is a gut man,” Deborah murmured. Deborah and Callie had gone over Reuben’s situation together — discussed it from the inside out.

  She looked over at her Englisch friend, met her quizzical gaze. Callie had shown up on the scene almost as soon as she had, shown up in her Amish dress. She’d been there nearly from the very moment the body had been found.