Bygones (28 page)

Marie smoothed a wisp of hair behind Kelly’s ear. “Honey, life never works out like storybooks. It’s a good idea in theory, but. . .”

Kelly tipped her head to the side. “But what?”

“In storybooks, people often don’t think about what God wants for them.” Marie smiled, her heart lifting at the realization of how important God’s will had become in the past few weeks. She hadn’t even considered whether leaving with Jep was what God wanted for her back then—she’d just gone. Now she didn’t want to proceed on anything without His blessing. “I need to do what God would have me do, not what sounds romantic. Do you understand?”

Kelly nodded, but Marie could see by the loss of sparkle in the girl’s eyes that she was disappointed. Flinging her arm around Kelly’s
shoulders, Marie aimed her toward the door. “I tell you what. If God lets me know He has romance in mind for me, you’ll be the first one to hear about it, okay?”

The thirteen-year-old’s face lit with pleasure. “Okay!”

That evening, in Lisbeth’s bedroom, snuggled beneath one of her aunt’s quilts, with a lantern illuminating the pages of Lisbeth’s Bible in her lap, Marie reflected on her conversation with Kelly. As much as she hated to admit it, she felt haunted by the girl’s innocent question:
“Don’t you think you’d be happy with Mr. Braun?”

She had many memories of Henry, and none of them were unpleasant except the one from the day she left Sommerfeld with Jep. The image of his stricken face, tears glittering in the corners of his dark eyes, brought a stab of guilt as sharp as the one she’d felt that day. Even though she hadn’t looked back, she knew Henry stood beside the road until the semi was out of sight. She knew he had mourned her leaving. Even if Lisbeth hadn’t shared Henry’s heartbreak in her letters, Marie would have known.

But she had loved Jep. They’d been happy. He’d teased her about being his little Mennonite girl, but he’d never been put off by her cap and simple dresses. He hadn’t even insisted she adjust her attire after they recited vows in front of a justice of the peace. Jep had been raised in the Baptist church but slipped away due to his job as a truck driver. All the traveling pulled him away from regular church attendance, but Marie had insisted on finding a church to visit every Sunday when she began traveling with him.

She smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude as she remembered Jep holding her close, whispering, “Marie, honey, you’ve been so good for me. I feel like Jesus is my friend again. Thanks for getting me back on track.” She had been so happy with him, so certain God meant for them to be together.

But their time together had been short-lived—not quite two
years. She hugged the Bible to her chest, pain stabbing with the memory of the day the police officer knocked on the apartment door and told her Jep was gone. He’d fallen asleep at the wheel, the man had said, and rolled the semi over an embankment. He’d been killed instantly, so he hadn’t suffered. Marie hadn’t found much comfort in that fact at the time.

In the numb days following Jep’s funeral, his parents had been wonderful, supportive, assuring her they would help her with the baby, who would never have the opportunity to know the father who had celebrated her conception. But Marie had wanted her own mama. So as soon as she could travel—when Beth was a mere two weeks old—she had climbed on a bus and returned to Sommerfeld.

Only to be sent away by her father.

So she had left, disgraced and aching, and moved in with Jep’s parents, relying on their help. The day she moved under their roof she discarded the outer coverings that told of her Mennonite faith.

Marie touched her tangled hair, recalling how odd it had felt those first days without her cap in place.

A sudden desire struck. Almost against her will, she set the Bible aside and slipped from the bed. Padding on bare feet to the closet, her heart pounding, Marie sought the old, familiar covering. Lisbeth’s caps rested in a box on the closet shelf. She removed the box, set it on the bed, and lifted out one cap. Her hands trembled as she fingered the white ribbon—white, because Lisbeth had never married. Her cap would require black ribbons.

Her breath caught. Did she truly want a cap again?

She licked her lips, her mouth dry, and crossed to the bureau and the round mirror that hung above it. Placing the cap on the bureau top, she smoothed her unruly hair from her face and examined her image. When she lowered her hands, the strands flew in disordered curls around her cheeks. The lantern light brought out the gold and red
highlights. Henry had always admired the red in her hair.

Shaking her head, she pushed thoughts of Henry away. This had nothing to do with him. Picking up the cap, she held her breath and slipped it over her curls. With quivering fingers, she tucked the errant curls beneath the sides of the cap. Her reflection blinked back at her, her face pale, her eyes wide. The white ribbons trailed down her neck. Time melted away, and Marie looked into the face of her youth. A tear slid down her cheek.

Closing her eyes, she dropped to her knees beside the bed. “Oh, my Father God, I’ve missed You. I’m so glad to have You back in my life. I know when I leave here, You will go with me. I can worship You away from Sommerfeld. But I don’t know what to do.” For long moments she remained beside the bed, hands folded beneath her chin, her knuckles digging into her flesh, her heart crying out for guidance.

When she got to her feet again, she had no sure answers, but she knew one thing. If she were to stay in Sommerfeld, she wanted to be part of her childhood congregation once more. Her decision to leave with Jep had resulted in excommunication. But her fellowship could be restored if given approval by the bishop.

She experienced a sense of loss as she tugged the cap free and returned it to the box. One ribbon hung along the cardboard side, and she lifted it, twisting it around her finger. A smile formed as she envisioned God twisting Himself around her heart. “All right,” she whispered. “I’ll try to regain my membership. If they refuse me, then I’ll leave. . .again. But this time—” Her heart caught, tears filling her eyes. “This time I won’t leave You behind.”

“Are you sure?” Henry leaned his elbows on the table, bringing himself closer to his brother-in-law. He and Troy shared a corner booth
in the café. Henry was pleased to see business returning since the town had enjoyed a full week without thefts. The café didn’t bustle with Sommerfeld residents, but members of the community filled three tables. It was a step in the right direction. And if what Troy said was true, there was an even bigger reason for celebration.

“She told Deborah about it herself.” Troy lifted his mug and sipped the steaming brew, his eyebrows high. “And Deacon Reiss told me this morning that the bishop is coming on Sunday to visit with her.”

Henry slumped in his seat, his spine suddenly unable to hold him erect. After all the years and countless prayers, it seemed Marie was returning to the church. And if she did, she would no doubt remain in Sommerfeld. “Well, I’ll be.”

Troy set his mug down and frowned across the table. “Now, Henry, Deborah asked me to tell you about it, but she also wanted me to tell you something else.”

Henry angled his head.

“Don’t get your hopes up. Just because she wants to come back to the church doesn’t mean. . .” Troy turned his gaze away.

Henry nodded. Troy didn’t need to finish the sentence. Marie’s return to the church didn’t necessarily mean she would return to him. She’d made her choice long ago, and based on what he’d overheard the day he’d brought her father to the café, her love for Jep Quinn had gone deep. There might not be room for another love.

Releasing a little huff of laughter, he shifted forward again. “Tell Deborah not to worry.” He waited until Troy met his gaze. “God has brought Marie back to faith, and that’s a real answer to prayer. It’s what Lisbeth wanted. I can be happy with that.”

Troy nodded and went back to sipping his coffee, pulling in noisy slurps. It was clear he was pleased to be finished with the conversation.

Henry leaned into the padded seat, his thoughts racing. What he’d told Troy was truthful—he could be happy for Marie if she managed to regain fellowship with the congregation. But he also knew it would be difficult to be happy for himself if Marie were to remain in Sommerfeld and not be a part of his life.

B
eth closed the cover on her laptop, sighed, and massaged her neck with both hands. When would this tension ease up so she could relax? Her weekend away, although enjoyable—especially after Mitch arrived, even though he looked ridiculous sporting a new, short haircut—hadn’t accomplished what she’d hoped.

Her gaze flitted to Mom, who lifted two plates from the serving counter and headed toward the dining room. Tears stung behind Beth’s eyes. Instead of her time away making Mom see how important it was for them to stick together, it had pushed her in the direction of the church. This past Sunday she had even talked to the head honcho about becoming a member again!

In four more weeks, she would be able to officially claim the inheritance, sell the house and café, gather up Lisbeth’s antiques, and return to Cheyenne to open her boutique with Mitch. He’d located a shop area they could rent in one of the older buildings on Capitol Avenue. It would be pricey, but he was certain they’d be able to make it work. The thought of having a successful decorator boutique thrilled her on many levels. But—her throat tightened—Mom might not be going with her. And if Mom didn’t come, how could Beth possibly do all the things she’d planned in order to repay her?

How could her mother betray her this way? All her growingup years, Mom had been there—the one stable, unwavering, unshakeable relationship in a world where others came and went. But now her mother was slipping away, choosing others over the child she had claimed meant everything to her.

Beth felt as though her dreams were crumbling at her feet.

Trina turned from the dishwasher and flashed Beth a bright smile. “All done researching?”

Beth lowered her hands. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone, but Trina was hard to resist. The girl was incurably cheerful. Despite her controlling mother, bleak surroundings, and dismal wardrobe, she always wore a smile. Kind of like Mom these days.

“I wasn’t researching.” She swiveled on the stool and watched Trina load plates. “I was making sure the café and house were listed on the Realtor’s Web site.”

Trina’s expression clouded. “So you’re really doing it, huh?”

Beth flipped her hands outward. “That’s what I came to do. I follow through on my plans.”
Unlike someone else I know
.

Trina went on stacking, her hands moving rhythmically between the bin and the washer tray. The little ribbons from her cap swayed with the steady movement. What would Mom look like if she started wearing one of those caps?

“Well, I’m glad you’re getting to do what you want to, but. . .” Trina paused for a moment, pulling in her lower lip and furrowing her brow. “Are you sure you want to sell everything?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Beth propped her elbows on her knees. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother hand Deborah an order ticket. Mom said something Beth couldn’t hear from this distance, and Deborah smiled in return, resulting in Mom’s low-throated chuckle.