A Perfect Square

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.

Perhaps it had been important that they pass over this road together. Just as they’d traveled down the other road earlier this year. That road had also been touched by death, but in the end, it had led to Callie’s life here.

Deborah glanced around the shop.

Could the clue she’d been missing lie here?

In the quilt shop?

That made no sense, but the more she considered the idea, the more certain she felt that it did. They’d looked everywhere else. Scoured Reuben’s farm, dredged the pond, even advertised in the Amish newspaper The Budget.

How could the missing answer be here?

“I suppose I should go,” Faith said. “My driver will arrive any minute. We’re both staying at a local bed and breakfast so I can see Ira again tomorrow, but then I head back to Goshen in the afternoon. It’s gut that we don’t have church this week. I would hate to miss worship with the children, but I want to spend time with my dat.”

She stood, pulled her scarf off the back of the chair, and wrapped it around her neck. The wind outside had picked up a bit, rattling the windows, causing Deborah to look toward the front. She saw the “Information Wanted” poster, thought again of the young Amish girl.

The wind reminded Deborah that fall was practically gone and winter nearly upon them.

Max whined once, met her gaze, then dropped his head to his paws.

“Don’t forget your coat,” Callie said, jumping up and pulling Faith’s coat off the rack by the door.

As she held it for Faith to stick her right arm in, Faith turned, shuffling the package of items she’d apparently bought from the store into her left hand. Deborah forgot for a moment about Reuben and the tragedy of the dead girl and Esther and Tobias. She forgot about feeling responsible for others’ happiness, and she forgot to concentrate on solving anything. Instead her mind relaxed, unclenched almost, and did what it naturally wanted to do.

It noticed the style and seam of Faith’s dress.

The way the seam of the sleeve was cut into the bodice of the dress. The unique style of the plain garment.

Deborah saw what she’d been missing.

A shiver started a slow, cold crawl from the base of her neck and crept out in both directions — toward her hairline and in the direction of her toes.

She felt paralyzed.

Faith tugged on her coat, pulled her kapp strings free where they had caught in the collar, then reached down to say good-bye to Max.

Deborah realized Faith was leaving and that she had to stop her. Her mind’s eye, though, remained fixated on the cut of the sleeve, wanting to be certain that it exactly matched the sleeve of the girl in the pond.

Deborah heard Callie walk Faith to the door, saw the sweep of headlights as a car pulled into the parking lot, and she finally, finally managed to call out. “Wait. Please don’t go yet.”

Both women turned back to look at her, surprise marking their features.

Deborah carefully set her cup on the square table, which sat in the middle of the chairs. Then she stood and faced this woman she didn’t know. “Your dress, the way the sleeves are cut into the bodice. It’s a bit unusual, ya?”

The puzzled look on Faith’s face fell away, and she smiled — her first relaxed and genuine smile since Deborah had walked into the store. “You have a good eye for sewing. Ya, the Amish in Goshen have some strict rules regarding dress, and all of the sleeves must be cut and tucked the same. The bishop thought it would help to set us apart.”

“Only Goshen?” Callie said.

“I believe so. At least I haven’t noticed it anywhere else. I’ve been sewing dresses this way all my life, and I don’t even think about it anymore.” Faith swiped again at her hair, her fingers brushing at the kapp pinned to the top of her gray curls. “What made you ask about the dress? It’s an interesting style, but I’m not sure it’s one you’d care to copy.”

“I don’t think her interests were in the sewing.” Callie stepped toward Deborah, put her hand out, and touched her arm. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You’re right though.” Deborah chose her words carefully, feeling she was close now and not wanting to scare this woman — her only lead — away. She was keenly aware that Reuben’s future might hang in the balance of what occurred in the next few moments inside Callie’s shop. “The girl who was found in Reuben’s pond, the girl who died here in Shipshewana, was wearing such a dress.”

Faith didn’t move, didn’t blink for the space of several seconds. Her calm blue eyes met Deborah’s. In that time, Deborah sensed that Faith was absorbing the full weight of her words, the implications of both what she said and what was to come.

“Callie,” Faith said, “I believe we might need another cup of tea, and I need to go and tell my driver that I’ll be staying a bit longer.”