Light Shines on Promise Lodge Page 2

  People applauded briefly as Marlin grasped Frances’s hand and started toward the buffet table. His teenage children, Fannie and Lowell, followed them while Frances’s younger daughter, Mary Kate, and her son-in-law, Roman, fell into place behind them. Baby David squawked excitedly in Roman’s arm, as though he thought all the fuss was being made for him. Marlin’s son, Harley, waited while Minerva and Gloria came from the kitchen to join the others in the line.

  Annabelle smiled at the blended family that had been formed by Frances and Marlin’s union. Harley and Gloria had objected long and loudly to their parents’ courtship, yet they’d come to an understanding about his dat and her mamm needing the love and companionship a second marriage would bring them.

  Annabelle returned Gloria’s little wave, pleased that this young woman had matured so much over the summer. Gloria had once been flighty and boy crazy, but Rosetta had hired her to manage the upstairs apartments and the ten cabins that sat behind the lodge. Gloria had also started writing the community’s weekly article for The Budget, thereby accepting a lot of responsibility and gaining people’s respect. At twenty-three, she was a shining example of how a life could be transformed by the encouragement of a fine role model like Rosetta.

  It’s all about finding a worthwhile purpose, Annabelle mused as she returned to the kitchen. The Kuhn sisters were pulling more pans of hot food from the oven, to be ready when the first pans ran out.

  “Wonder what Daisy’s barking about?” Ruby asked as she removed the foil from a pan of green bean casserole. “She must’ve left Harley’s sheep to see about the excitement here at the lodge—”

  “Jah, she’s been on Noah’s porch across the road this morning, watching for wedding guests to herd. Border collies are like that,” Beulah remarked as she covered the green bean casserole with French fried onions. She turned to Annabelle. “Go fill a plate now—before the guests gobble up all the food,” she teased. “If we take turns eating, we’ll have helpers to replenish the food all during the meal.”

  Spotting some large plastic pitchers of ice water, Annabelle reached for them. “I’ll eat as soon as I refill the pitchers on the tables,” she said. “It’s a warm day for the sixth of October, and folks are thirsty.”

  With a pitcher in each hand, she made her way into the crowded dining room. The tables were close together to accommodate the large crowd, so Annabelle walked along the tables’ ends and had someone pass her the pitchers that needed refilling. She was stepping toward the table nearest the archway that led to the lodge’s lobby when the sight of a solitary man in black froze her in place.

  Phineas was watching her, as though he’d been following her progress along the outer edge of the dining room . . . waiting for her to notice him. He held her gaze with the pale, penetrating green eyes that had often made her heart thud in her chest as she anticipated his judgment—his criticism and correction.

  The blood rushed from Annabelle’s head. She wasn’t aware that she’d dropped the two big pitchers until she heard the noisy clatter of plastic hitting the hardwood floor and felt ice water filling her shoes.

  What’s Phineas doing here? How did he find me—and what does he want?

  Chapter Two

  As Phineas stepped toward her, Annabelle lost all track of the crowd’s presence. She was too stunned by her runaway husband’s unexpected reappearance to be cognizant of anything other than his questioning gaze and the voice that could always make her feel guilty, even when she wasn’t.

  “I came back for you, Annabelle, and you weren’t home,” he said softly.

  Annabelle blinked. “You must’ve noticed that your brother’s taken over the farm,” she blurted. “He constantly reminded me that I was his duty—a burden you’d left him to bear. So I packed up and left.”

  Phineas frowned, but then he flashed his most charming smile. “Let’s forget about Eldon,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve reestablished my business in Ohio, so we can take up where we left off, Annabelle. Just you and me, free to live a better life without the church telling us what we can’t do.”

  Red flags shot up like fiery antennae, reminding Annabelle of Phineas’s way of glossing over mistakes. It suddenly seemed ironic that a man who made his living remodeling and restoring houses had torn their home apart several months ago without any apparent remorse.

  “I have no interest in living English,” she stated. She took a deep breath to fortify herself. “My salvation is in the Lord—and in the Old Order, which has stood by me after you left me without two nickels to rub together. I’ve reestablished myself, too, Phineas, and I’m staying right here.”

  Where had this show of backbone come from? Annabelle surprised herself, so quickly defying the man she’d obeyed for more than twenty years. Her husband’s expression told her that he, too, was shocked by her refusal to do his bidding.

  “Annabelle, are you all right?” Ruby asked in a concerned voice.

  “When we heard the pitchers hit the floor, we got worried.” Beulah placed a warm hand on Annabelle’s shoulder, bringing her out of her daze. “Do you know this man, Annabelle? Or is he asking about coming here to live at Promise Lodge?”

  Annabelle felt extremely grateful to the Kuhn sisters for showing up with towels and true concern as she ran out of things to say to her absentee husband. She broke the gaze with which he’d been holding her captive, aware that Ruby was mopping the water from the floor around her feet while Beulah remained beside her, lending support.

  “This is Phineas,” Annabelle murmured, thankful that the guests around them were resuming their conversations. “He says he’s come back for me.”

  The Kuhns’ raised eyebrows and wary expressions said what Annabelle hadn’t yet been able to put into words. Phineas would surely realize that she’d painted a dark, unflattering picture of him—but before he could protest, Bishop Monroe strode over to join them.

  “Hello there,” he said as he extended his hand to Phineas. “Welcome to Promise Lodge and the wedding dinner that’s in progress. I’m Bishop Monroe Burkholder—”

  “And I’m Annabelle’s husband, Phineas Beachey,” he replied. As he shook the bishop’s hand, he sounded pleased to meet a man who would surely restore order and support his rightful role in Annabelle’s life. “Imagine my surprise when I returned to our home in Pennsylvania to find that my wife had left—”

  “But you’ve found her now,” Bishop Monroe interrupted smoothly, “and you both have a lot of talking to do. How about if you fill a plate and we’ll find you a place to sit, Phineas? Plenty of time for you and Annabelle to discuss your differences after our wedding guests have gone home.”

  Gratitude welled up inside Annabelle, for who would dare defy the burly, positive-minded bishop? Even though Phineas no longer followed the Old Order’s ways, he kept the rest of his rant to himself—perhaps because Monroe was head and shoulders taller than he was.

  “Thank you, Monroe,” Phineas said as he released the bishop’s hand. “I appreciate your hospitality—and we will talk later,” he added with a purposeful look at Annabelle.

  “Jah, we will,” she agreed. “You go right ahead and eat while I see to things in the kitchen. That much hasn’t changed, anyway.”

  Aware of the crowd’s curious glances, Annabelle grabbed the wet towels from the floor and followed Ruby around the outer edge of the dining room. Beulah came right behind her with the empty pitchers. By the time they’d reached the kitchen, Christine and Mattie had joined them, along with Rosetta and a few of the other women. Annabelle appreciated their support, but before she answered the questions on their faces, she sat down on a chair to remove her saturated black shoes.

  “Ladies,” Beulah said in a low voice, “the fellow in the doorway was Phineas Beachey, Annabelle’s runaway husband. That must be who the dog was barking at.”

  “What does he want?” Mattie demanded suspiciously.

  Annabelle shook her head. “Truth be told, I was so startled to see him that the room st
arted to spin—and then I dropped those pitchers,” she replied breathlessly. “Somehow he’s found me. Says he’s reestablished his remodeling business in Ohio, and he figures we’ll take up where we left off before he abandoned me.”

  “And what do you want, Annabelle?” Ruby put in quickly. “It’s not our place to pry into your personal business—”

  “But we won’t let Phineas waltz in here and expect you to dance to his tune if you don’t want to,” Beulah added with a decisive nod. “Not after the way he left you and the Old Order.”

  “Jah, forsaking his vows to the church is the one unforgivable sin, the way most bishops see it,” Christine remarked. “He’s got some consequences to face. Lots of Amish districts believe he’s forfeited any chance for reconciliation, let alone salvation.”

  After she’d removed her wet, black stockings, Annabelle shook her head. “From what I could tell, he doesn’t give two hoots about what the Amish church believes anymore. He was upset because I wasn’t at home where he’d left me—and he seems to think I’ll go blithely along with whatever he wants, and that I’ll leave the church, too.”

  The kitchen rang with a stunned silence as the ladies surrounding her considered the seriousness of what she’d said. Annabelle gazed at each of their faces, grateful for the friendship and support she saw. “No matter what happens, I want you all to know how much I appreciate the way you’ve stood by me from the moment I showed up at Promise Lodge,” she murmured. “It’s an honor to call you my friends.”

  “And your friends intend to stick with you,” Rosetta insisted. She squeezed Annabelle’s shoulder. “I suspect Phineas will be here for a while as you iron out this difficult situation. I’ll ask Gloria to speak with him about renting one of the cabins—”

  “Unless you’d rather tell him to find a place in Forest Grove or Cloverdale,” Ruby put in. “Maybe we don’t want him around, considering what you’ve told us about him.”

  Annabelle blinked at the rancor in Ruby’s voice. Had she made Phineas out to be a total villain these past few months? Or was her maidel friend merely trying to make her feel better? “Maybe Phineas should stay in a cabin, so we don’t keep Monroe and the preachers waiting on his comings and goings while we iron this out,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t even know if he hired a driver or drove himself all the way out here in a buggy. It was a short conversation, partly because I was too stunned to hold up my end of it.”

  “We’re blessed to have levelheaded leaders in our congregation,” Christine said, “and those four men will determine where Phineas stands, as far as the Old Order is concerned. But don’t forget how far you’ve come, Annabelle. It would be a shame to give up your sewing business—not to mention the independence you’ve found here.”

  “That’ll be a sticking point for Phineas,” she murmured. “He’s already appalled at the way I’ve answered his questions—rather than tucking my tail between my legs and lowering my eyes.”

  “You’ll figure it out, dear,” Mattie assured her gently.

  “Jah, all things work to the gut for those who love the Lord,” Beulah said with a nod. “Meanwhile, I suspect we need to check the buffet table.”

  “Why don’t you fix a plate and let the rest of us handle the dinner details?” Ruby suggested kindly. “I can understand why you wouldn’t want to be out there with Phineas watching your every move.”

  After her friends headed back to the dining room, Annabelle sighed loudly. Everywhere she looked, there were pans of food covered with foil, along with a stack of everyday plates so the helpers could eat in the kitchen because the dining room was full. The aromas of ham, brisket, and fresh-perked coffee lingered around the worktable where she sat. She’d really been looking forward to a soul-satisfying dinner followed by a piece of pie and a slice of the beautiful wedding cake Ruby had baked and decorated.

  So much food, so little appetite. Just when you put your loneliness and disappointment behind you, the man who caused it shows up.

  Annabelle shoved her soggy shoes under the worktable. With a last look at all the glorious food around her, she padded barefoot over to the sink. She couldn’t just sit and stew in her own juice while her friends kept working to make the meal a seamless success for Frances and Marlin.

  As she ran hot water and squeezed liquid dish soap into it, Annabelle realized that her dreams were a lot like the bubbles that rose from the sink: shiny and colored with hope so transparent and fragile that the least little bump could pop them.

  “I have to do better. I have to stand up for myself,” she whispered as she began putting dirty utensils and dishes into the water. It would take more than dreams and hope to convince Phineas that the new life she’d made for herself was better than abandoning Old Order ways, which had guided her all her life. He was still her husband, but in the church’s eyes he’d committed a serious sin.

  Only God knew how this situation would settle out. Annabelle had to trust that the religious leaders of Promise Lodge would listen to His guidance—and convince Phineas to do the same.

  Chapter Three

  Gloria stood at the dessert table, listening carefully to Rosetta’s suggestions as she mentally prepared herself to meet Phineas Beachey. She gripped her clipboard, which held a copy of the Promise Lodge rental agreement, eager to do her job correctly—yet wary of dealing with the man who’d abandoned Annabelle and their faith.

  She’d never met anyone who’d left the Old Order. While he was alive, her father had preached many a sermon about the perils—the dire, eternal consequences—that awaited folks who broke their baptismal vows.

  “If you approach him now, while he’s sitting with Bishop Monroe and Preacher Amos, it’ll be easier,” Rosetta pointed out with an encouraging smile. “And if you want me to go with you, I will. We’re assuming he’ll be a tough customer, but maybe that’s not the way of it at all. Maybe he’s come to make amends, so we should give him the benefit of the doubt—and truth be told, his business with Annabelle isn’t our business.”

  Gloria bit back a smile. The women in the kitchen wanted to make it their business to find out about Phineas, and they were buzzing about what would come of his presence here. “Jah, you’re right,” she said, stealing a glance at the man in question. “Mr. Beachey needs lodging, and we can provide it. It’s a basic transaction—just like you rented a cabin to Cyrus and Jonathan Helmuth when they came here to work at their cousins’ landscaping business.”

  “That’s the best way to look at it.” Rosetta beamed at her. “See there? I knew you were the right person to hire as my lodge manager. You’ll do just fine with Phineas—but I’ll come with you if you want me to,” she repeated.

  “I’m on it,” Gloria said, standing taller. “With Monroe and Amos and all these other folks around, what can he do—except say that he’ll either rent a cabin or that he’ll head into town to find a place to stay?”

  Smiling resolutely, Gloria walked toward the table where Phineas was finishing his apple pie. He was a striking man with graying hair and a neatly trimmed beard that gave him a distinguished air—until he looked up at her with his pale green eyes. Gloria stopped a few feet from the table, intimidated by the sinister aura his black English clothing and unnerving gaze created. She was relieved when Monroe and Amos caught sight of her.

  “Gloria, you surely must be a mind reader,” Bishop Monroe said, gesturing at the man across from him. “This is Phineas Beachey, and he’s going to be here at Promise Lodge for a while. Phineas, this is Gloria Lehman. She manages the apartments and cabins we’ve been telling you about.”

  Grateful that the bishop had made the introductions, Gloria nodded at Phineas. “Pleased to meet you,” she said as she set her clipboard on the table beside him. “If you’d like to look at our cabins, we can go anytime you’re ready. The wedding guests who’ve been staying in them have given their permission for us to step inside so you can choose the one you like best—unless you’d rather find a room in Forest Grove.”

/>   Phineas skimmed the rental agreement, frowning slightly. “I’ve already sent my driver back to Ohio, figuring I could stay here,” he murmured. When he focused on Gloria again, he assessed her for a long moment.

  She braced herself. Was Phineas about to criticize her or the rental agreement? His green-eyed gaze felt predatory, as though he was accustomed to staring folks down until they submitted.

  “Are these wedding guests paying to stay?” he challenged, gesturing at the people who sat at nearby tables. “This is the first place I’ve ever been where hospitality wasn’t offered as a common courtesy—”

  “We’re pleased to offer lodging when folks come—whether or not we were expecting them,” Preacher Amos put in purposefully. “For the wedding, we’re not charging the newlyweds’ family and friends—”

  “But we ask folks who’re staying awhile to pay a minimal rent,” Bishop Monroe continued firmly. “Otherwise, the ladies and the two young men who currently live in our apartments and a cabin would be covering the cost of your food—which adds up, if you stay for any length of time.”

  Phineas’s eyes narrowed. “How does Annabelle pay any rent?” he asked in a low voice. “She’s accused me of leaving her destitute, when in fact she had an entire farm at her disposal in Lancaster County. Ever since I arrived, the expressions on your faces have told me she’s painted a very dark portrait of me, and of our relationship.”

  Gloria couldn’t deny that Annabelle’s descriptions of her husband had been less than flattering. She didn’t feel it was a good idea to mention the Coffee Can Fund, started by the Kuhns and other women with successful businesses to help ladies who couldn’t afford to pay rent right away.

  “Annabelle does a lot of sewing for folks hereabouts,” Preacher Amos replied smoothly. “She and the other lodge residents all support themselves with their businesses, just as our two young men work at the Helmuth Nursery you saw on the state highway. At Promise Lodge, we believe in carrying our weight instead of expecting our neighbors to cover our expenses—and if you’re here to patch things up with Annabelle, you’ll be a part of the Promise Lodge community for a while, ain’t so?”