Abiding Mercy Page 29

  Chapter 40

  The next day Faith managed to sneak into Brandon’s office and call Beverly Dembrowski. She had too many unanswered questions and needed help sorting things out. Although reluctant at first, Faith managed to talk her Englisch neighbor into coming to get her and driving her to Posen.

  The northern November wind off Lake Huron sent chills down her spine. Thankfully, she’d remembered to bring the winter coat Roslyn had bought her. Faith gazed at the familiar scenery. The maples and oaks had shed most of their beautiful crimson and gold leaves, and the overcast sky suggested snow flurries. As they passed the roadside park where Gideon had taken her to watch fireworks, stirred-up memories brought tears to her eyes. July seemed so long ago.

  Beverly cleared her throat as they neared the city limits. “Where do you want to go first?”

  “Mamm is probably at the restaurant,” Faith said. “Can we stop there first?”

  “No problem.” Beverly pulled around back and stopped the car.

  Faith noticed the police car in the parking lot and cringed. “If I don’t kumm out . . .” Lord, have mercy. “Maybe you should drive around or something.”

  “I’ll wait for you here.” Her Englisch friend held her voice steady, playing like she wasn’t nervous, but Faith knew different. After Faith shared Roslyn’s plans, Beverly developed a twitch in her cheek. No doubt nervous that she would also be accused of kidnapping.

  “I’ll be quick.” Faith pushed the door open. She entered the building at the rear entrance and stepped cautiously toward the grill.

  Catherine gasped. “Faith! You’re back.”

  “Shh.” She placed her finger over her lips. “I kumm to talk with Mamm.”

  “Irma isn’t here today. She wasn’t feeling well yesterday so she went home early. How are you doing? You’ve been on mei mind and I’ve been praying for you.”

  “Danki.” Faith hesitated. With a police car in the parking lot, this wasn’t the place to go into a long discussion, but she had to ask. “Did you know about me?”

  Catherine sighed. “I knew you weren’t Aenti Irma’s boppli. She was very hush-hush about you.”

  “You didn’t ask? Your mamm didn’t question her sister?”

  Catherine gulped. “Have you heard whispers of Aenti M?”

  “M? Nay.”

  “Our mothers haven’t spoken their sister’s name since her shunning. I’ve only heard them address her by her initial.”

  “What about her?”

  Catherine shrugged. “Mei mother and the rest of the district all assumed you were Aenti M’s boppli. That she had gotten herself in a fix and had left you for Aenti Irma to raise.”

  Faith’s shoulders slumped.

  “We all love you and miss you—especially Irma. Please go see her.”

  Faith nodded.

  Catherine pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m praying things work out.”

  “Danki.” Faith couldn’t help but feel betrayed. All the years she and Catherine had been close and she hadn’t mentioned the dark secret. She said good-bye not knowing when or even if she would see her cousin again.

  “That was short. Are you okay?” Beverly started the engine once Faith put on her seat belt.

  “Mamm wasn’t there.” She swallowed, settling the quiver in the back of her throat. She went in the restaurant to get answers and came out with even more questions. “Can we stop by the haus?”

  “Of course.” Without needling Faith for tidbits of information, Beverly put the car into drive and headed out of town.

  Faith hand-pressed the wrinkles in her dress. She recalled having her eye on the plum material for weeks before saving enough money to purchase the yardage needed for the dress, an apron, and matching thread. Then the long hours she spent cutting out the pattern, hand sewing the dress and apron. So different from walking into a store and purchasing a dress with a plastic card.

  “Don’t be nervous,” Beverly said, stopping the car next to the house. “And take as long as you want.”

  “Thanks.” Faith blew out a breath, then climbed out. “Lord, give me the right words,” she whispered, lumbering up the steps.

  Mamm opened the door. “Faith!” She drew her into a suffocating hug. “It’s so gut to see you.” Ushering her inside, Mamm held her gaze for a long moment.

  Faith nervously touched her bun. If Mamm noticed her shorter, highlighted hair, she didn’t mention it.

  Faith removed her coat and hung it on the wall peg, then sat across the table from her mother. She wasn’t sure where to begin. “Why didn’t you write?”

  Her mother’s smile faded. “The police said I’m not allowed to have any contact with you.” Her lips tightened and eyes glazed. “But I think about you all the time. I wonder how you are getting along, if they are treating you gut.” She wiped her eyes and drew a ragged breath. Then pushing her chair back, she stood. “I have your birthday present in the sitting room,” she said, weeping as she left the room.

  Faith stared at the grooves in the wooden table, remembering her father working on it in the barn to surprise her mother for Christmas.

  “It isn’t much,” Mamm said, handing her the brown paper-wrapped package.

  Faith swallowed the egg-sized lump in her throat. “You didn’t miss mei birthday. I wasn’t born in October.”

  Rounding her shoulders, lowering her head, her mother seemed to shrink in the chair.

  “Why didn’t you tell me I wasn’t your daughter? I don’t understand. How could you let me believe something that wasn’t true?” She closed her eyes briefly to pray for guidance. “You kept me hidden all those years. Why?”

  Her mother looked up. “Faith, I didn’t know anyone was searching for you. A young woman came to the door with you in her arms. She looked frightened and distraught—desperate for help. She begged me to take you and promised to kumm back. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t say nay when I held you in mei arms. For a long time I believed she would come back.” Mamm’s voice faded. “After a while, I didn’t want her to.”

  “Who was she?”

  Mamm shook her head. “The woman never gave me her name. She called you Doll.”

  “Then how did I get the name Faith?”

  “Olivia named you, and it stuck. You were a bright child. You picked up on Pennsylvania Deitsch immediately.”

  “What did you tell the members of the church about me?”

  “I told them we had a boppli dropped off . . . and I let them assume you were mei schweschaler’s child.”

  Faith kept the information Catherine had told her to herself. “Why would they make that assumption?”

  “Mei younger sister, Mary, left the faith to go her own way. She had a child, a daughter, but soon after, she fell into a deep depression. Mary’s mental anguish was too great. She asked me to take her boppli and raise her as mei own.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Olivia is mei schweschaler’s child. I raised her from an infant. Only a few weeks old. So when you arrived, it was easy for the others to believe you were also Mary’s daughter. Since it’s forbidden to mention her name, no one asked questions.” She lowered her head. “It was wrong of me, but I didn’t correct their assumptions.”

  “Does Olivia know the truth?”

  “She does nau.” Mamm’s hands shook as she reached for the box of tissues on the table. She blew her nose. “Olivia found out her blood wasn’t a match when she wanted to donate for your father’s surgery. She started asking the nurses questions. Even checked a book out from the library. That’s when I told her about her mother.”

  Faith sank back in the chair. Olivia’s change of attitude was starting to make sense. “Where’s Olivia nau?”

  “She’s gone.”

  Faith reached across the table for her mother’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Mei heart breaks for you. I wish none of this was happening.”

  “Me too.”

  “But I have to tell you something. Roslyn want
s to press charges. She thinks you were in cahoots with the nanny who kidnapped me. She wants you and Daed to be punished.”

  “I heard. Officer Porter told me yesterday at the restaurant there was more to kumm from all of this and it might nett be gut news. He told me I should hire a lawyer.” She shrugged. “There is little I can do. The Lord will be with me. When the time comes He will provide the words.”

  Her mother forced a smile and pushed the birthday gift closer to Faith. “Will you open your package, please?”

  “Mamm, please. They’re going to interrogate you.”

  Her mother eyed the package.

  Faith unwrapped the gift. “It’s beautiful.” She removed the knitted scarf from the box and wrapped it around her neck. “Mei favorite color.”

  “I know. It matches your dress.”

  “Danki.” She started to cry. “This isn’t how I wanted things to go.” She reached for her mother’s hand. “This is mei home.” Where I belong.

  “You’re nett supposed to be here,” Mamm said, her voice straining.

  Faith winced at her words. Although she understood that she’d been there too long. Her mother could be in even more trouble if they were discovered together. “Someone had to warn you.”

  Her mother looked as if she’d withered under her shawl as she pulled it tighter.

  The back door opened and Daed entered along with a gusty wind. He limped a few steps, then stopped, eyeing Faith. “When did you get here?”

  “Just a few minutes ago. I had to warn you and Mamm about the kidnapping charges.” Tears washed over her face. “I’m nett supposed to be here. I don’t want you to get into more trouble.” She removed her coat from the wall hook and slipped it on.

  “You were our daughter for fifteen years and we’ll never forget you,” Daed said. “Please don’t forget how you were raised. Keep God close to your heart.”

  She pushed a short strand of hair under her kapp. He must think she’d already turned away from her upbringing to have changed her hair so drastically. “I won’t ever forget. But, Daed, they think we’re a cult.” She rushed into her father’s strong arms.

  “Put your trust in God, child.”

  Gideon picked a handful of apples and lowered them into the basket. With the weather changing and frost expected, the season was over. He needed to gather what apples remained and store them in the cellar.

  Twigs crunched behind him. He stood still. This time of the year deer were often spotted at the edge of the orchard, nibbling on apples that had fallen. He’d seen black bears eating what they could in preparation for their long winter sleep.

  The steps grew closer, louder. Wildlife usually wasn’t so brazen. He turned.

  “Hello, Gideon,” Faith said.

  His jaw dropped. She was the last person he’d expected.

  “Don’t you have anything to say?”

  He could think of plenty to say. None of it in her chipper, nothing’s happened tone. Guard yourself. Faith had closed the gap between them. “What brings you back?” he said, hoping to sound indifferent.

  “I wanted to see you. I thought I might find you here. It looks as though it might snow. First for the year if it does.” Her expression sobered. “Why didn’t you write back? I sent you multiple letters. Didn’t you get them?”

  “Jah, I received them.” He studied the apple in his hand instead of watching the tears roll down her face. He had to distance himself for his own soul’s sake. Otherwise he might succumb to worldly temptations and take her in his arms.

  “I—I thought . . .” Her shoulders began to shake as she wept softly.

  “In your letter, you asked me to pray because you were having difficulty adapting. Adapting,” he repeated louder. “I didn’t want you adapting to the world. How could I pray for that? I was praying for you to kumm back home.” Back to me.

  Faith was silent.

  “But you adapted just fine without mei prayers.”

  Her tear-stained face pinched.

  “I saw the pictures in the paper, Faith. You, wearing a fancy dress, your face painted with makeup, and your hair not even shoulder-length. Did you think the gossip wouldn’t reach mei ears?”

  “I was in a difficult situation,” she rasped. “That woman posing for the photograph isn’t me—nett the real me. Had you looked beyond mei appearance, you would have seen vacancy in mei eyes. Do you really think I want that lifestyle?”

  He squeezed the apple he’d been holding, hoping to diffuse some of the pain pressing on his heart.

  “I have to go nau.” Faith turned away.

  Gideon threw the apple with all the force he could muster. “Faith!” He crossed the rows of trees and caught her arm before she reached the edge of the field of drying corn stalks. “I need to tell you something before you go.”

  “What?” She kept her head down.

  “Have you talked with your mother?”

  Faith flinched. With a roll of her shoulder, she looked up at him. “I went to see Mamm first.”

  “So she told you about The Amish Table? That it’s closing next month?”

  “Nay,” she rasped. “Isn’t business still booming?”

  “The media camped out several weeks, hounding your parents about their part in the kidnapping. But I think the main reason they’re closing is because of Irma’s health. Something to do with her kidneys nett functioning like they should. She’s unable to work long hours and without you and Olivia . . . Well, they feel it’s for the best.” At least the district had agreed to help pay the medical bills and they wouldn’t have that burden to bear alone.

  “I wish there was something I could do.”

  “They’ve been told nett to contact you. If you want to help—stay away.” He motioned to the house. “I’ll walk you—” He stopped midstep. A police vehicle with flashing lights pulled into the driveway.

  Chapter 41

  Bloomfield Hills, Michigan

  Present day

  Roslyn studied the security footage on her laptop where it showed Adriana leaving the house before sunrise. Her child was missing—again.

  The doorbell rang.

  Roslyn and Chrisla jumped up to answer it at the same time.

  “I came as soon as I heard,” Leon said, unbuttoning his overcoat in the foyer.

  Roslyn narrowed her eyes on her brother. “What did you and Adriana talk about yesterday?”

  “I thought my secretary made you aware of my schedule change. The deposition ran late. I was out of the office for the better part of the day.”

  “That’s impossible.” Roslyn’s knees wobbled, and Leon and Chrisla helped her to a chair. “I don’t understand,” Roslyn said. “I heard you and Adriana talking in your office.”

  Leon glanced at Chrisla, skepticism arching his brows. “Roslyn, you couldn’t have heard me talking. Like I said, I was tied up downtown.”

  The front door opened and Roslyn shot up from the chair.

  Brandon entered the house, set his briefcase on the stand in the foyer, and went straight to Roslyn. “Honey” was all he said before crushing her in his arms. After a few seconds, he pulled back. “Have you heard anything yet?”

  She shook her head. “I had to threaten the police department with withdrawing our pledge to the beneficiary fund if they didn’t open a missing child case. They tried to tell me I had to wait twenty-four hours before filing a report. I have the security footage on my laptop if you want to see it.”

  Brandon watched the film silently. “She wasn’t abducted, and it doesn’t appear she was lured away by anyone. She’s wearing her Amish dress.”

  “I noticed that too.”

  “She didn’t take a suitcase, so I doubt she’s planning to be gone long.”

  “If Adriana went back up north she wouldn’t need anything.”

  Sadness hooded Brandon’s eyes as he placed his arms around her waist. “Adriana’s going to be all right. We’re not going to lose her again.” He pulled her into another hug.


  “You don’t know that,” she whimpered. “They could hide her or shuttle her to another settlement.”

  He gave her a gentle squeeze, then pulled back to look her in her eyes. “I know we’ll make it through whatever happens, just like we did before.”

  Roslyn closed her eyes as he leaned closer and kissed her forehead. Fifteen years ago, she and Brandon were on the brink of divorce, but in the disaster, they found one another again. When most of the marriages of The Adriana Hope Foundation families she had helped over the years had dissolved, she and Brandon had beaten the odds. And they had only God to thank for not giving up on them.

  Roslyn’s cell rang. She reached into her trouser pocket and read the caller ID. “It’s the police department.” She pressed the Answer button. “This is Roslyn Colepepper.” Hearing her daughter was safe, she released a pent-up breath. She glanced at Brandon. “They have her.”

  Chrisla cheered.

  “Yes, thank you.” Roslyn disconnected the call. “Adriana will be home shortly.”

  “Where did they find her?” Brandon asked.

  “Up north.” Roslyn was unsure what to think about Adriana running away to the Amish community. She had to find a way to make her daughter happy. “How about we all go out for dinner once Adriana gets back? I’m sure she’ll be hungry, and I haven’t eaten anything all day.”

  “What are we going to do, pretend nothing happened?” Brandon asked, then turned to Leon. “How should we handle this?”

  “It’s a delicate matter. The type of abrupt transition she’s been forced to—”

  “Forced!” Roslyn huffed. “She was stolen from me—her mother.”

  Leon nodded. “I’m only trying to share a different perspective. Through Adriana’s eyes, she was forced from the family and life she had. She’s going to have difficulty adjusting. Not only to the truth about who she is, but also the lifestyle. She was clearly uncomfortable having her picture taken at the party. When I found her sitting in the dark in Brandon’s office, she was hiding from the large crowd, the photographers, the loud music, the drinking.”

  Roslyn sighed. In her excitement to introduce her daughter to the world, to celebrate her return, she hadn’t considered how uncomfortable it would be for Adriana. Her daughter had so graciously gone along with the planning . . . hadn’t she?