Gathering Shadows (14 page)

Reuben left with Janet, and I went to find Esther. She was in the laundry room at the back of the house. I told her about August.”

“Land sakes,” she said. “What in the world happened?”

“I don't know. Janet said they found him in a field outside of town.”

She took her apron off and flung it on top of the washer. “If you don't mind, I'd like to walk over to the church and see if they know anything more. Will you keep an eye on Zac?”

“Of course, I will. He's doing much better though. I think you can quit worrying about him.”

“Oh, honey. I don't worry anyway. I just pray and trust God. Zac will be fine.” She leaned in close to me. “God has His hand on Zac. You know that, don't you?”

Startled, I nodded even though I had no idea what she was talking about. She turned to leave but stopped and came back, linking her arm through mine. “You know, Wynter, most people try to trust God based on His Word. And that's the way it should be. Every promise of God is true, and we can be confident that even if every man lies, God does not.” Her light-blue eyes peered
into mine. “But believing someone's words, whether it's a person in our lives or God himself, only comes second to knowing their heart. If you understand someone's heart, you can believe what they say. Do you understand what I mean?”

Again I nodded dumbly. She hugged me and toddled off. I stood there, thinking about her comments. Since arriving in Sanctuary, a lot of Scriptures had been coming to me. Scriptures I told myself I believed, yet they weren't really alive to me. Was it because I hadn't taken time to know the author of those words?

I started back toward the living room. The man I called Dad was waiting for me. Was I thinking about
what
he told me, or was I concentrating on
who
he was? My head pounded with confusion. Everything had changed. Not only about the way I'd come into my family, but also what I'd believed about my father. He hadn't left us. What did that mean to me? My world had just been turned upside down, and I had no idea how to get it right side up again.

On my way to the living room, I discovered Zac coming down the stairs, dressed, and with his hair combed.

“Hey, you're supposed to be in bed,” I said sternly.

“I'm determined to join the world of the living, if you don't mind.”

“I don't mind at all.” I linked my arm through his, and together we joined my father in the living room.

“Zac,” Dad said. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you. I thought I heard Reuben earlier,” Zac said as he sat down on the couch.

“You did,” I said. “He went into town. August Metzger, the cook from Randi's café, was found dead a little while ago.”

“What?” Zac frowned at me. “What happened?”

“They don't know. Esther went to the church to see if she could get more information.”

“That's too bad.” He shook his head. “The main reason I came down was to tell you I heard from my friend Mark. The guy I sent to Jamesport.”

“What did he say?”

Zac glanced over at my father and then at me.

“It's okay,” I said. “He knows all about it.”

“I'm afraid the news isn't as helpful as we'd hoped. Mark nosed around as much as he could without appearing suspicious. Several people remembered the Fishers. They lived there all right before coming to Sanctuary. But as far as Elijah goes, one guy said he
thought
Elijah was born there, but another woman couldn't remember Elijah at all.”

I sighed with exasperation. “So where does that leave us?”

“Back to my original idea,” Dad said. “I'm driving to Jamesport.”

“Are you sure, Dad?”

“Yes. You need to stay here in case Elijah comes back.”

“Okay, but please keep in touch. And don't tip anyone off. The Fishers might have friends that still live there. We don't want them to find out someone's asking questions. They might run so far away we'll never find them.”

“I understand, Emily.”

I glanced at the clock. It was almost eleven. “When will you leave?”

“Now. We need this information as soon as possible.”

“Do you want me to make you something to eat first?”

“Thanks, but I'll pick up something on the way. It looks like a storm's moving in, and I'd like to stay in front of it.”

“Okay, Dad. Please be careful.”

He nodded. “I will.” He reached into his pocket and took out the note he'd shown us earlier. “Why don't you keep this? I'd feel better knowing it's here where I can't lose it.”

“Okay.” I reached out and took it from him.

He stared at me for a moment before turning toward the front door.

“Don't you need to call Angela and tell her where you'll be?” Even saying his new wife's name made me sick to my stomach.

Dad stood for a moment with his hand on the doorknob, not looking at me. “Angela left me two years ago, Emily. We're divorced.”

Without saying another word, he walked out, closing the door behind him.

I turned to Zac, my mouth hanging open. “I can't believe I'm only finding out now. He could have told me.”

“Could he?” Zac asked.

“What are you saying?” I snapped. “Are you trying to make me feel sorry for a man who's been lying to me my whole life?”

“Look, Wynter, the last thing I want to do is upset you, but it seems to me that man
gave
you your entire life. I mean, who knows where you might have ended up if he hadn't taken you home from that hospital? He raised you, spent almost all his money protecting you—”

“You mean protecting himself.”

Zac scowled at me. “He paid a blackmailer because he didn't want to lose you. And he didn't want you to lose your parents. Can't you see that?”

I plopped down on the couch next to him. “Why are you defending him?”

“I'm not defending him, but I think you need to sit back and take another look at this situation. Your father took you
home from the hospital because he loved your mother so much he didn't want her to know her baby died. Then he raised you, loved you, and did everything in his power to protect you.”

“If he'd wanted me so badly he could have—”

“Adopted you? How? By telling your mother her daughter died? By possibly pushing her over the edge? And what about her past? I think he's right in saying that most adoption agencies would have turned down their application.”

I shook my head. “I hear what you're saying, Zac, but that doesn't make it right. Look at all the trouble his actions caused.”

Zac sighed. “I know. But you need to look past his actions and consider his heart.”

I felt as if I'd been punched in the face. Were Esther's words coming back to haunt me? “You . . . you don't know what you're talking about,” I mumbled, hoping he'd back off.

“Maybe I don't. But I know what it's like to let something negative affect your entire life. I did it, and I don't want you to make the same mistake.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My parents were married for five years before I was born. After I arrived, my father decided he didn't like competing for my mother's attention. He demanded that either I be put up for adoption or he would leave. Mom refused to give me away, and he took off. Left my mother with nothing. No money. No job and no training. She'd married right out of high school, and my dad hadn't allowed her to work. She struggled for several years. Started off on welfare, and then finally got a job in a restaurant. She worked as hard as she could, even taking extra shifts so she could earn more money. Still, we barely scraped by. Eventually, she was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, and it got harder
and harder for her to work. Finally, she lost her job because she couldn't keep up.

“We'd been going to the same church for years, and sometimes they'd help us with food. It wasn't much, but we were grateful for it. My mom considered these people family. Things got worse and worse until finally, desperate to take care of me, she officially filed for divorce from my father and asked for child support. He'd never given us a penny. Never checked up on me. Never called. Never visited. By this time he owned a large car lot and was making good money. When the elders in our church found out, they kicked her out, telling her it was a sin to divorce her husband. I was only eight when it happened, and I can still remember the look on her face when they called her out in a service, in front of the entire congregation. She was in complete shock. They gave her the chance to repent. To call off the divorce. She tried to explain. Tried to make them understand, but when she refused to repent for her supposed sins, two elders came over, took us by the arms, and led us out of the building.”

“Oh, Zac. I can't believe it.”

“Well, believe it. When the door slammed behind us, my mother sank to her knees on the sidewalk. I was crying, trying to help her up. I couldn't understand what had happened. Then I looked over at the sanctuary windows and noticed a woman who had been Mom's best friend sitting there, watching us. She looked upset, and for a moment I thought she was going to come out and help us. But finally she just turned her face away. After a few minutes, my mother got up, took my hand, and led me back to the car. We drove away from that church and never went back.”

“I'm so sorry.” I moved closer and took his hand. “Surely you realize most churches don't act like that. My family went
to church for years, and they never treated anyone so . . . so shamefully.”

He squeezed my hand. “The service here was great. Full of love and joy. As I sat there listening to Jonathon, I realized my attitudes about life were colored by that one terrible experience. Everything has been tainted by it. And it was a mistake. Our lives are more than one or two bad incidents.”

Too choked up to speak, I just nodded.

“A couple of years later, my mother found another church. She kept asking me to go with her, but I wouldn't. I was angry at religion and angry with her for getting sucked back in. But the person I was the angriest with was God.”

“What those people did had nothing to do with God.”

“I know. But I was trapped by my rage. Couldn't open my heart to Him or to any Christian, even after my mother found the right kind of church—one where people loved her, accepted her, and treated her like true family.”

“Does she still go there?”

“Yes. Going on twelve years now.” He smiled. “After we get back, I'll take some time off and visit her. I think it's time we went to church together.”

I smiled at him. “I'm sure that will make her very happy.”

“I should have done it years ago. I've lost valuable time with my mother because I couldn't move past that terrible incident.”

“Are you trying to tell me I'm doing the same thing?”

“Your treatment of your father revolves around what happened to your brother, doesn't it? Everything is tied to Ryan's abduction.”

“My father drank before Ryan disappeared.”

“True, but he was under incredible pressure. In time, I think your family could have recovered. But when Ryan was taken, it
all spiraled out of control. There was no going back. No chance to start again.”

I squeezed his hand one more time and then let it go. “I hear what you're saying, but I need some time.”

“I know. It will take a while. But do it
with
your father. The two of you will get better faster if you have each other. It's what I should have done with my mother.”

“Zac, one thing terrifies me.”

“What's that?”

“At some point Mom will have to be told the truth. About me. About Ryan.”

“You can face that later. Just concentrate on what's happening now. Not what might happen later. When the time comes, if you and your father can present a united front, you can both help her through it.”

I started to tell him I wasn't sure my mother would listen to anything my father said, when the front door opened and Reuben came in. His expression was grim.

“It was definitely August?” I asked.

He nodded. “Someone bashed his head in.”

I heard Zac's quick intake of breath. “He was murdered?”

“Yes. Someone killed him and left his body near the road outside of town. We know he packed at least one suitcase, but it wasn't there. Who in the world would kill someone for a bunch of stuff that wasn't worth anything? It's crazy.” He shook his head. “Things like this aren't supposed to happen in Sanctuary.”

“I'm sorry, Reuben,” I said. “I know August was your friend.”

He sank down in a chair across from us. “We weren't really all that close. August was hard to get to know, but he was one of us. That makes it tough.”