Unbreakable (6 page)

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Authors: Nancy Mehl

Tags: #FIC042040, #FIC042060, #FIC042000, #Kansas—Fiction, #Mennonites—Fiction, #Violent crimes—Fiction, #Nonviolence—Fiction, #Ambivalence—Fiction

BOOK: Unbreakable
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Papa stroked his beard, a sure sign he was worried. I wanted to say something to make him feel better, but my heart betrayed me. My attraction to Jonathon was much stronger than was proper, and try as I might, I couldn't seem to control it. Before I could speak again, Callie brought coffee to our table. We thanked her, and Papa asked about her father.

“Some days he does quite well, Brother Kauffman,” she replied, “but other days he is barely able to get out of bed.” I could see the sadness in her huge blue eyes.

“I am so sorry to hear that,” Papa said gently. “It has been too long since I have been to visit. May I come by sometime in the next few days?”

Callie's expression immediately brightened. “Oh yes. Please do. Seeing you would make him so happy.”

Papa nodded. “I will stop by one afternoon this week.”

“That would be wonderful,” she said with a smile. “When I get home tonight, I'll tell him you're coming. Thank you so much.”

“I look forward to talking with him. James has been a
longtime friend. Forgive me for not calling on him sooner. I will do much better in the future.”

“I understand that you're busy, and Father understands it too.” She glanced toward the kitchen. “Your meals should be ready shortly. I'll keep an eye open for them.” She patted me lightly on the shoulder and left to check on a nearby table.

I saw Levi Housler, Noah's brother, sitting alone. I waved to him, and he nodded toward me. Levi looked a lot like Noah, but he was taller and his hair was blonder. They weren't much alike in personality though. Noah was extremely social and made friends easily, while most of the time Levi was very quiet and thoughtful. Callie shared with me once that she had set her cap for the gentle, reverential man. I'd been watching them for months, but Levi didn't seem to notice Callie except as the woman who waited on him whenever he came into the restaurant.

I focused my attention back to Papa and started to make a comment about Callie's father when Papa suddenly interrupted.

“I have not forgotten our topic of conversation, Daughter. I must insist that you stop spending time with Jonathon Weise. He is stirring up division in the church with his ideas. His beliefs about meeting violence with violence are against our core Mennonite doctrine. I have brought his actions to the attention of our elder board.”

My mouth dropped open. “But you haven't even heard his suggestions. How can you judge what you don't know? And approaching the elders about him will surely cause dissension, Papa. How can you accuse Jonathon of divisive behavior and then turn around and do the same thing? I don't understand—”

“Hope,” Papa said sharply, “we will not have this discussion. You obviously care about this young man, and I believe he also has an unhealthy interest in you. Even though I am in his debt for aiding you this afternoon, I want this relationship nipped in the bud. Now. I will not allow it to continue.”

I felt tears spring to my eyes. Although Papa could be a very severe man, he was usually gentle with me. I felt scolded, yet I hadn't done anything wrong. Or had I? Indignation rose within me, along with a feeling of shame. Together they made me feel sick inside.

Without warning, Jonathon's face drifted into my mind. Thick dark hair, blue eyes the color of a cloudless sky, and dark eyelashes that any woman would be proud to own. Emotions boiled that an engaged woman shouldn't feel toward another man. I tried to push them down, but they wouldn't be so easily controlled.

As Father quietly sipped his coffee, once again I found myself comparing my fiancé to the man I had such a strong reaction to. Jonathon was a firebrand. Passionate. Intelligent. Interesting. I could listen to him talk for hours. He spoke with enthusiasm, and his ideas sparked excitement in me.

And Ebbie? Once while on a walk, he found an anthill and spent the rest of the afternoon explaining to me the exciting world of ants. How they could lift several times their own weight and how intricately they set up their colonies. I enjoyed his enthusiasm, but would our lives be filled with long stories about bugs? Someday would I find him boring? It hurt to even consider the possibility. I loved Ebbie. But no matter how hard I tried to forget about Jonathon, I just couldn't seem to do it.

“Hope, I would like to know that you understand me. Your silence does not assure me that you have taken my concerns to heart.”

My father's curt comment snapped me out of my contemplation.

“Yes, Papa,” I said slowly. “I hear you, but I don't agree. Jonathon and I haven't done anything to be ashamed of, and I don't want to lose his friendship.”

“I do not care what you want,” he said harshly. “I believe I know what is best in this situation and would appreciate it if you would not question my authority. You will not speak to this man again, and that is the end of it.”

I glanced around, looking to see if anyone was paying attention to us. Thankfully, all the other customers seemed to be more interested in their own conversations than they were in the drama unfolding at our table.

“Papa,” I said quietly, “will you please lower your voice? You're embarrassing me.”

“Your discomfort is not my concern. My concern is for your soul. Jonathon Weise is dangerous and not just because I do not agree with his views. The way he looks at you is . . . sinful.”

“Papa,” I hissed, “I am twenty-six years old—not a little girl anymore. I manage the quilt shop—”

He started to protest, but I held up my hand to stop him. “Yes, I know you own the store, but you don't spend much time there. You have to admit that I actually carry out our day-to-day operations. My point is that I am a grown woman, responsible, and level-headed. When will you trust me? When will you allow me to make my own choices?”

Without warning, Papa jumped to his feet. “I will not have a daughter of mine running around with a man like Jonathon Wiese. Either you will stop seeing him or you will move out of my home. You are engaged to be married, but your interest in this man is obvious. You are humiliating yourself and causing me shame. I will not have it!”

Papa stormed out of the restaurant, slamming the door behind him. I didn't need to look around me this time. The silence in the dining room made it clear that everyone had heard. I was so embarrassed I could barely raise my head. And when I finally did, I saw Ebbie standing a few feet from our table. The look on his face made my heart sink.

C
HAPTER
 / 3

I pushed my chair back
and stood up, not sure what to do. I could feel my cheeks burn with humiliation. Callie, who had been pouring coffee at a nearby table, hurried over to me.

“If you need to leave,” she said softly, putting her arm around me, “I'll give your dinners to someone else. Abner Witsman and his wife just ordered the same thing.” She squeezed my shoulders.

Too mortified to speak, I just nodded and fled from the dining room. Even though I was too afraid to look at any of the other diners, I could almost feel the stares. When I reached the steps outside, I slumped down to a sitting position and hid my face in my hands. I wanted to run to the safety of the quilt shop, but Papa was probably there, and I couldn't face his anger.

“Are you all right?”

I looked up to see Ebbie standing over me. The last person I wanted to see. “I-I'm sorry, Ebbie. I didn't mean . . .”

He sat down next to me, his deep brown eyes searching mine. “You know, Hope, I've suspected for a while that you
had feelings for Jonathon. I just kept hoping they would pass. But they haven't, have they?” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. “Here, you should wipe your face.”

I took it gratefully and dried my cheeks. “I don't know, Ebbie. I love you. Very much.” I sighed heavily. “But I have to be honest. My father was right. I'm having inappropriate feelings for Jonathon.” I looked into his eyes and saw the deep hurt there. Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks. “I-I'm so sorry, but you deserve the truth. If you'll just be patient with me, I know this will pass. I wish I could explain it, but I can't. It's as if I don't know myself anymore.” I wiped my face again and handed the handkerchief back to him. “I still want to marry you. If you'll have me.”

He studied me for several moments. As I looked back at him, I realized how cute he really was. His reddish-brown hair glowed in the late afternoon sun, and his eyes held depths I could get lost in. Perhaps his face wasn't as manly as Jonathon's, but his long aquiline nose and perfect cheekbones gave him an appealing, romantic look.

He clasped his hands together and stared out at the street, the pain of my words still etched in his face. “I don't know, Hope. I think you owe it to us . . . No, you owe it to me to explore the feelings you have for Jonathon. If you are meant to be together, it wouldn't be right for me to stand in your way.”

“Jonathon isn't attracted to me, Ebbie. As far as he's concerned, we're just friends. Nothing more.” Although I wasn't sure that was true, in that moment I had to face the fact that Jonathon had never expressed any romantic interest in me.

Ebbie took my hand and peered deeply into my eyes. “I'm
not worried about Jonathon's intentions. I only care about your heart, Hope.” He let go of my hand and stared down at his boots for a moment. Then he slowly stood up, refusing to meet my gaze. “I'd like to marry a woman who has eyes only for me. Who never compares me to anyone else because I'm the only man she will ever love. I want a wife who looks at me the way my mother still looks at my father. Maybe I'll never have that, but I'd like to hold out hope that someday I will. I think I'll regret it if I don't.” He paused and took a deep breath. “So I'm ending our engagement. I know our plans have already been announced in church, but I'll talk to Pastor Mendenhall.”

“Oh my.” I blinked away the hot tears that filled my eyes again. “It . . . it will be quite a scandal.”

I could remember only one other time when an engagement in Kingdom had been broken. Even though most people had no idea why the marriage was canceled, speculation ran rampant. It was several years before the young woman finally married someone else, and to this day her would-be groom was still single.

“Don't worry,” Ebbie said gently. “I'll tell Pastor Mendenhall the truth. That it was my decision, and I'll refuse to explain my reasons. You'll be able to hold your head high.” His voice broke, and he paused to clear his throat. “If you need a friend, I'll be here for you.” He finally looked at me with shiny narrowed eyes. “I'll always love you, Hope. I pray you'll find what you're looking for.”

I wanted to cry out, to beg him to change his mind. Was it my own embarrassment at having a broken engagement? Or did he mean even more to me than I'd realized? Perhaps my
feelings for him weren't the swooning kind I felt for Jonathon, but they were strong. I loved him, and I couldn't believe what was happening. But instead of protesting, I sat quietly and watched him walk back into the café.

I grabbed the handrail and pulled myself up. Several people came out of the restaurant and walked past me. A couple of them said hello, but the rest were silent, probably uncomfortable after the scene between Papa and me. I had decided to go back inside and ask Lizzie what to do when someone gently took my arm. I turned to find Papa standing next to me.

“Please forgive me, Daughter,” he said softly. “I behaved like a fool, and I am shamed by my actions. You are my child, and I love you. Even though it does not seem like it, I am aware that you are too old to have your father make every decision in your life. I cannot understand why I reacted so abruptly. ”

His kindness started my tears again. “Thank you, Papa. I don't know where I'd go if I couldn't come home to you.”

“My darling daughter,” he said, his voice catching, “you can always come home.” He struggled for a moment to control his emotions. “Are you too ashamed of me to go back into the restaurant and have supper?” he asked finally.

I sighed. “I'm not ashamed of you, Papa, but I don't think I'm quite ready to face everyone.”

He nodded. “I understand. You go to the shop and wait for me. I will have Lizzie wrap up our meals, and I'll carry our plates back to the store. We can talk there while we eat. My harsh words have created a poor harvest. Let me pull up the bad seed I have sown.” He touched my cheek. “You are the most important person in my life, and I think my desire for your happiness has made me careless. Instead of reacting
with anger, let us share our hearts with each other and find healing.”

I smiled for the first time since leaving Lizzie's. “That sounds wonderful, Papa. Thank you.”

He patted my shoulder and then headed toward the restaurant. I felt proud of him, knowing that going back there now was very difficult.

As I walked toward the store, my mind kept running over my conversation with Ebbie. Had I done the right thing when I admitted my feelings for Jonathon? Ebbie was a good man, and I'd just lost him. I truly believed we could have been content together. Why had I thrown away our chance at happiness? Because Jonathon
might
like me? Ebbie's words kept coming back to me.
“I'd like to marry a woman who has eyes only for me. Who never compares me to anyone else because I'm the only man she will ever love. I want a wife who looks at me the way my mother still looks at my father.”
My own heart convicted me. I couldn't give Ebbie the kind of love he wanted until I found out if Jonathon and I had a future together.

Telling Papa about my broken engagement wasn't something I was looking forward to. He wouldn't be pleased. Perhaps it was cowardly, but I decided to wait until tomorrow to share this news. Revealing too soon that Ebbie had called off the wedding might make it difficult to mend my relationship with Papa.

“Hey, I think you need to watch where you're going.”

I glanced up, startled. I'd been staring down at the sidewalk, lost in thought. Noah Housler was standing in front of me with a big grin on his face.

“Oh, Noah. I'm sorry. I was just thinking.”

He laughed. “Thinking that hard can get you into trouble. I hope it's nothing too bad.”

I smiled at him. “Bad enough, but that still doesn't give me the right to run into people.”

“Can I help?”

Putting the situation with Ebbie aside for now, I quickly told him about the truck on the road. His expression grew solemn. “I'm fine,” I assured him, “but Papa and Lizzie think we should alert our people about the possible danger that exists outside of Kingdom.”

“I agree. We need to ask everyone to stay in town for now. Just in case.” He shook his head. “Hopefully, they'll heed the warning. We have some rather independent thinkers in Kingdom.”

His words made me smile. I certainly would consider him to be one of those “independent thinkers.” For example, he was always getting teased about his beard, or lack thereof. In Kingdom church, married men wore beards while single men stayed clean-shaven. However, Lizzie had made it clear to her husband that she wasn't partial to facial hair. So Noah, trying to follow tradition yet keep his wife happy, grew what my father referred to as “dirty stubble.” Frankly, I found Noah's concern about his wife's wishes refreshing.

“I'm sure you'll be able to convince them,” I said. “But I must admit that I'm troubled by these events. I can't understand the motive behind this persecution.”

“We don't war against flesh and blood, Hope. It's important to remember that the people behind these attacks are fueled by a hate that doesn't come from God. I'll bet if you
asked any of them to explain themselves, they'd have a hard time doing so. They're just blindly following orders from the enemy.”

“Well, maybe. But how can they not understand that setting churches on fire and hurting innocent people is wrong? What if someone dies?”

“I know. I think about that too.” He rubbed his hands together as if cold, but actually it was a rather warm afternoon. “Is your carriage still out on the road? I'd be happy to get it.”

“No, it's back. Papa and Aaron picked it up. It's in Brother Engel's blacksmith shop.”

Noah looked down the street toward the building that would soon be our general store. “Aaron's a great guy,” he said. “I'm glad he was available to help you.”

“How are things going with his plans for the store? I see him working there almost every day, and it seems to be shaping up fast.”

“He plans to open by the end of the month,” Noah said. “Several of the men from church have been helping him, including me.” He sighed. “Sure could save me a lot of trips out of town.”

“Papa gave him a list of things our shop could use, but there's no way he'll be able to carry everything we need.”

“I'm sure your father would feel better if you didn't have to ride to Washington for your supplies.”

I nodded but didn't respond. Noah would have understood my desire to spend at least one day away from Kingdom every month, but I didn't want Papa to discover how important those trips were to me. Maybe it was silly, but I had a nagging fear that if he knew, he might try to stop me from
going. Papa's not a mean-spirited man, but he has definite ideas about things that are “frivolous” and things that are “important.” I couldn't take the chance that my expeditions to Washington would fall into the “frivolous” category.

“Well, I'd better get inside and let Lizzie know I'm back.” Noah smiled at me. “It was nice to talk to you, Hope. We don't get a lot of chances to—”

The sound of a siren cut off the rest of his sentence. We both turned and looked as a car from the sheriff's department barreled down the street, raising lots of dust. Several of the horses tied to hitching posts bolted out of fear, and Noah raced over to calm them. Harold Eberly ran out of his hardware store and started waving his arms at the car, trying to get the driver to reduce his speed and turn off his siren before one of the animals injured itself. Thankfully, the driver appeared to get the message. He cut off the terrible noise and slowed down, finally stopping right in front of the restaurant.

I suspected the driver was Sheriff Saul Ford, and my guess was confirmed when he stepped out of his vehicle. Sheriff Ford served as the county sheriff, but why he was here was a mystery. No one in Kingdom would have called him. The sheriff had made it clear that he considered Kingdom a strange town full of religious zealots. His lack of respect for us wasn't any deeper than our lack of trust in him. Without any apology for the commotion his entrance into Kingdom had provoked, he strode into the restaurant, a young man trailing behind him.

I hurried after them, wondering what would cause the sheriff to darken the borders of our town, let alone come with his siren wailing. Noah followed me, obviously also wanting to know the reason for the sheriff's visit. He held
the door open for me, and we both stepped inside to find the sheriff standing at the front of the crowded dining room. We walked past him and stopped next to Lizzie, who was staring at the sheriff with surprise. Before Ford had the chance to say anything, the young man who'd ridden into town with him walked around from behind the large lawman and stood by his side. Where the sheriff was large and rotund, this man was thin and small with slumped shoulders. Covered in acne, his face was frozen in a sneer.

“I wanna wait in the car,” he said in a whiny voice. “It's too hot in here.”

“You stay where I can keep an eye on you,” the sheriff snarled. “I grounded you to the house, and then found you hangin' around in a bar with your no-good friends. If I have to tie you up and drag you along with me for a month, that's what I'll do until you start listenin' to me.”

The young man stuck his hands in his pockets and hung his head. I felt rather sorry for him.

“This is my son, Tom,” Ford said, addressing us. I had to look closely to see the resemblance, but it was there.

Ebbie nodded at the young man. “Nice to meet you.”

Tom didn't respond. His eyes swung around the room, staring at us as if we were oddities in a sideshow. When he got to me, he stopped. The look on his face made me uncomfortable. His slow gaze traveled from my face down and back up again. He gave me a mocking smile that made me shiver.

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