A Perfect Square

Chapter 10




ESTHER LOOKED DOWN at Deborah’s hands on top of her own. She needed to calm herself. She needed to rein in her emotions.

Leah’s voice pierced through her heartache. She was in the kitchen, saying something to Mary. Esther heard her soft laugh and wanted to drop her head into her arms and weep again.

Leah laughing … finally.

Now — like the last time — it was all about to be ripped away.

Life wasn’t fair.

“I’ll ready my buggy, drop Joshua off at your schwesder’s place, then head into town.” Jonas’ voice was calm and steady.

“Ya, and I’ll drive Esther’s buggy. She doesn’t need to be driving. Esther, would you like Jonas to take Leah as well?”

“Take Leah?” Esther wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her dress. “Take her where?”

“To Miriam’s again — she’s the closest from here.”

“I don’t think … I’d like her to stay with me.” Esther glanced from Jonas to Deborah, then down to the mug of tea Deborah had pressed back into her hands.

“It’s growing cold, but it will still help. If you want Leah to come with us, then I’ll take Joshua as well.”

“Who are we going to see?”

“I’d say your first stop is by Bishop Elam’s. No doubt he’ll already have heard, but he might have some important words of advice for us.” Jonas ran his hand over and through his hair. “And the man’s prayers wouldn’t hurt either.”

“Then Adalyn Landt’s.” Deborah squeezed her arm lightly.

Esther had started to feel a glimmer of hope. At the mention of Adalyn’s name, however, despair crept back in. “I don’t think so. I’ve been up since four, remember? Running this through every possible angle. Surely Adalyn heard about the girl. I think all of Shipshe heard about what was going on at Reuben’s farm. If she’d wanted to help, she would have shown up. I imagine that Adalyn has had quite enough of our special cases.”

Deborah smiled and pulled Esther to her feet as Jonas moved to the backdoor. “I guess you’ve been too busy with wedding plans to know everything that is going on in Shipshe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Adalyn was in South Bend yesterday. Shopping for those fancy bags of hers. She didn’t get back until late last night. Somehow, even though it was after nine, she heard about the girl and drove all the way out here, wanting to know if she should go on to Reuben’s house. We told her not to, and now I’m sorry for that. As far as we knew, no arrests had been made.” Deborah stopped, turned, and enfolded her friend in a hug. “Maybe if we’d sent her on, all of this could have been avoided. I’m sure it’s only a misunderstanding.”

“You couldn’t have known. But you think she will want to help?”

“Ya.” Deborah smiled as she tugged her toward the kitchen. “I believe her exact words were that another tangle with Black would make her day.”

“Make her day?”

“That’s what she said.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand Englischers at all.”

“The point being that she looked forward to helping you. I think she views Shane as an equal adversary, someone worth competing against — rather like our buggy races.”

“This isn’t a game though, Deborah. This could be Reuben’s life.” Despair settled over Esther like a heavy quilt as her dreams for the next couple weeks — dreams for her future — wavered.

“She knows that.” Deborah slipped lunch pails into each of her kinner’s hands and hurried them toward the backdoor. Then she turned and grasped Esther’s cold fingers in her own. “She knows that, but she believes in showing no fear. We know fear isn’t of the Lord, and we’re fortunate to have someone on our side who believes the same, someone who can navigate the Englisch legal system.”

Deborah’s four school-aged children kissed her as they left and said good-bye to Esther. Both women watched as the little group trudged out the door and down the lane — Jacob and Joseph running a few steps ahead; Martha moving slower and holding hands with Mary.

The walk to the one-room schoolhouse would take them fifteen minutes. The schoolhouse had been built on a piece of land owned by Jonas’ cousin, and it housed approximately thirty-five students. At the rate they were growing, another schoolhouse would need to be built next summer and the group split. If she and Tobias had decided to live on his grossdaddi’s farm, Leah would have attended the same school as Deborah’s children. If —

“Tell me what’s really bothering you.” Deborah focused on rinsing their two cups as she spoke. “I’ve known you since we were kinner, and I’ve never seen you so upset. It is more than Reuben being taken into custody, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know how to explain.” Esther turned so her back was at the sink and she could watch Leah play with Joshua on the floor at the far side of the kitchen.

“Try.”

“I’ve grown to love Reuben. He’s become like a bruder to me.”

“Of course.”

“But — “

“But?” Deborah turned and leaned against the cabinet as well. They stood side by side, the material of their dresses barely touching.

It was so familiar, so ordinary, that Esther found herself able to let the words slip out, the words and worries that had been circling in her mind and shredding her heart for the last three hours.

“I never thought I’d meet another, Deborah. Never expected to love again.” She paused, searching for a way to express all that had happened so quickly. “I’ve known Tobias for years.”

“But your heart wasn’t ready.”

“My heart wasn’t ready. Ya, perhaps you’re right. And then he sat down beside me, asked if I was going to eat my apple strudel.” Esther shook her head, as her fingers found and traced the ties of her prayer kapp. “He’s the most gentle, loving man, and somehow I think Seth would approve.”

“Of course he would. Seth would want you to be happy. He’d want Leah to have a dat in her life.”

Esther nodded, tears once again stinging her eyes, causing her throat to tighten. “In the last few months, I’ve come to realize that Tobias and Reuben are more than cousins though. They’re more like twins. I think you can understand that better than most people — having Jacob and Joseph.”

“Ya, my boys are like one sometimes. They finish each other’s sentences and carry each other’s burdens, even at their young age.”

Esther nodded. “That’s exactly how it is with Tobias and Reuben. If Reuben were convicted of this, I don’t know how Tobias would bear it. And now, I don’t think …” Her voice shook, and she pressed her lips together to stop the sob from escaping. She’d begun though, and the need to express her deepest fear won over the agony of verbalizing it. “I don’t know if he’ll be able to go on with the wedding.”

Deborah turned toward her, touched her face, and forced her to meet her gaze. “You don’t think he’d call it off, do you?”

“I don’t know. Don’t you see? On the one hand, he might call it off, because he needs to be there for Reuben. On the other hand, he might go on with it, but his heart wouldn’t be with us anymore — with me and Leah. Which would be worse?”

“But his obligation to Reuben doesn’t stretch that far.”

“It’s more than that, more than a feeling of responsibility. I’ve seen them, how they are together … like your boys. It will be as if Tobias is being accused as well. If Reuben has to stand trial, then Tobias will be there with him. And if Reuben is made to stay in the Englisch jail, if he is convicted of this terrible thing …”

Esther’s right arm began to tremble, and she clutched it to her side with her left hand. “I think it will be better to postpone our wedding. And I don’t want to sound selfish, but I want to ask, Why me? One girl has died, and Reuben’s future lies in the balance, and I’m worried about a wedding. It is selfish, but there you have it. It’s as if a big hand has come down and wiped away our happiness. As if I was allowed to see future happiness, but I’m not going to be allowed to have it.”

“Oh, Esther. Honey. The hand of God is not like that.”

“Are you sure? How can you know?”

Instead of answering, Deborah pulled her into an embrace. Esther allowed it, but she was still left with the image that had haunted her since the delivery boy had arrived so early to shatter her day … the image of a giant hand about to reach down and wipe away her future, an image of darkness and fear.

Callie flipped the switch to ON, sending water through the little coffeemaker. She didn’t use it to make coffee. Too many of her customers preferred tea. When she first arrived in Shipshe, she was a Starbucks drinker herself, and she still liked a nice strong cup first thing in the morning. But Deborah was winning her over to the pleasures of a nice hot cup of tea.

Or perhaps it was the Indiana weather.

The front windows of her shop rattled lightly with the fall wind, reminding her she would soon experience her first Indiana winter. Her childhood memories of visiting her aunt all took place around the milder months. Mother used to proclaim that the Indiana winters were why they lived in the south and that Daisy could come and see them if she wanted to. But her aunt never had.

Each year Callie had received a Christmas postcard from her aunt instead. One even had the quilt shop on the front, covered in snow. Callie shivered at the thought. In Houston, a cold front had been anytime the temperature plummeted below sixty.

Walking back toward her unexpected guest, Callie noted the sun was making its way through the front display windows. She wasn’t having a problem coping with an Indiana fall — the dazzling display of colors had lived up to her expectations and more.

“I have several types of teas here and a few pastries. The hot water will be ready in a minute.” She set the tray down on the table in the back sitting area. “Now Mr. — “

“Bontrager. Name’s Bontrager.”

“Mr. Bontrager, what would you like to drink?”

“That dog of yours looks hungry. Most Amish people keep their animals outside.” He reached up and combed his fingers through his solid white beard, reminding Callie again of the snow that was to come.

When Bontrager had stepped into the shop, he’d reached up as if to remove his hat, then looked around in confusion. His hand had rubbed across his shiny bald head instead. He’d finally shrugged and followed Max toward the chairs in the back area. “We don’t abide animals in the house.”

“Yes, I realize that, but Max sort of guards the shop for me. And as you can see, I’m not Amish.”

“Does he eat?”

“He does.”

Bontrager picked up a shortbread cookie and threw it at Max, who caught it midair. He also swallowed it whole, not pausing for such niceties as chewing. The dog licked his chops once, wagged his tail, and waited for more.

Smiling as if he’d seen a circus bear perform a trick, Bontrager picked up a pastry.

“Actually, I prefer to feed him dog food. Sweets aren’t terribly good for him.”

“He looks hungry to me.”

“Well, he probably is. I usually feed him as soon as we come in from his morning yard time.”

Bontrager leaned forward and looked under the table, then around the side of it. “Don’t see any food. Did he eat it already?”

“No, he didn’t. Mr. Bontrager — “

“Say, did you have some water to go with this tea? I prefer apple cinnamon myself.” He’d picked up the basket of tea bags and begun pawing through it, his concern for Max apparently forgotten.

Callie closed her eyes and mumbled a brief prayer for patience. She hadn’t been much of a praying person before coming to Shipshe, just as she hadn’t been much of a tea drinker. Funny how a place, how the people in a place, could influence you.

Deborah, Esther, and Melinda, with their quiet ways, had made an impression on her — sometimes more than she realized. Perhaps that was why she’d found herself walking through the doors of the local Presbyterian church the last several Sundays, a first in many years and one she knew would have made her Aunt Daisy smile.

Bontrager placed the basket back on the table and gazed around the room.

“Place looks about the same. I believe even the flooring is

unchanged.” He thumped his cane against the hardwood floor. “Ever thought of updating?”

Attempting to keep up with the turns and twists in the old man’s conversation was like trying to have a sensible talk with Deborah’s youngest. With Joshua, she never quite understood his one-word commands, and he bounced from one need to another before she could answer the previous one. Which reminded Callie, she hadn’t called Gavin yet.

Someone had to be looking for the old guy.

“Hold that question. I believe our hot water is ready.” Callie rushed back to the kitchen, called Gavin on her cell phone, and said, “Get over here.” Then she poured two mugs of hot water and carried it back out to where Bontrager and Max were still waiting.

“So you’ve been here before?” She set the mug in front of him, even plucked a package of apple cinnamon tea from the basket, but Bontrager didn’t appear interested.

Callie moved to the chair beside him, opened the bag for him, and dipped it into the steaming water. Clutching the hot mug appeared to calm him a bit, though it was still too hot to drink. He inhaled deeply, seeming to enjoy the scent of the apple cinnamon tea, and closed his eyes.

When he looked at her again, his eyes had taken on a faraway look. In fact, as he gazed around the store, she was sure he wasn’t seeing what she was seeing at all.

“Ya, course I’ve been here before. You know I stop in regularly. Come in to the Quilt and Shop every time we come to town. It’s not easy on a man, what with the roads impassable so much of the time. But I made a promise to Sharon when we moved here.”

His hand began to shake as he raised the mug and took a small sip. “It’s been hard on her, leaving her family and all. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked her to come west. Maybe I should have waited until there was more of a town, a bigger district. I didn’t know though. Didn’t know women counted on such things.”

Tears welled up in the old man’s eyes, turning their blue to a shimmery lake. When he looked at her, a single tear slipped down his weathered cheek, though he didn’t seem to notice. It caught in the wrinkles of his cheeks, then worked its way down. “She couldn’t come today. I thought I’d stop in just the same. Stop at the general store and the post office. See if there was any news from the family.”

“Mr. Bontrager, who is your family? Can you tell me their names?”

“Normally I pick up the supplies at the general store, and Sharon, she comes over here and picks out a little material.” He pronounced it mater-ee-ail. “Women-folk don’t call it that.”

“Cloth?” Callie asked gently.

He looked at her sharply, his gaze clearing for a moment. “Ya. The last time she came in, she picked out a little bit of cloth for the baby.” His hand shook more, causing the tea to slop and spill over the side of the cup. He leaned forward, set it down on the saucer.

Then he reached for his cane and ran his hand up and down the wood. She noticed that the engraving wasn’t letters but rather a cross, a hammer, and a nail — three items in a row but touching at the corners, forming a ring that circled the cane. It seemed to calm him, center him in some way. When he spoke again, Callie had the sense that he was back in the present time and place, but the feeling remained that something wasn’t quite right.

“The baby is why I’m here.”

Callie glanced toward the front room, out the windows. Where was Gavin?

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Bontrager.”

“Need you to find my dochder. Are you daft?”

“If your daughter’s missing, you should see the police.”

“Too late. It’s too late for that. Might be old, but I’m not senile.”

The word senile set off an alarm in Callie’s mind. He probably wasn’t senile, but he might have Alzheimer’s or another form of dementia. If he’d been walking all night and missed his meds or become dehydrated, his condition was no doubt worse.

“Mr. Bontrager, is there someone I can call for you?”

“You already asked me that. There’s no need. Besides I heard you call someone. They’ll be here soon enough, and they’ll take me back to that place. Before they do, you need to listen to me. You and that dog. You’re both good at solving things, right?”

“I’m not sure why you think that.”

“Saw your picture in the paper.” He raised his cane, nearly knocking over the basket of tea, and pointed it at the framed picture of her and Max, the one taken after they’d caught Stakehorn’s murderer.

“That was an unusual situation. We don’t normally go looking for trouble.”

“Most of us don’t, dochder. But trouble sometimes has a way of coming to us. Find my girl — find Bethany.” Bontrager reached out a hand lined with age. It was mostly bone, skin, and veins. Trembling, he grasped her arm. “Please, find my dochder. I need to see her one more time.”

There was a light tap on the shop’s door, followed by a jingle of the bell. Gavin had finally arrived. Bontrager let go of Callie’s arm, reached for another cookie, and tossed it to Max.