A Mother's Gift Page 9

  Jude closed his eyes, grateful again for his son’s unwitting insight. “You’re right about her, Stevie,” he said as he lightly clapped the lines across Rusty’s back. “Let’s get on home, and we’ll hope that Leah and the girls are already there.”

  “What if they’re not, Dat?”

  “We’ll take Uncle Jeremiah up on his offer to help look for them,” Jude replied.

  A smile flitted across Stevie’s face. “Boy oh boy, the girls’ll be in big trouble if the bishop has to go after ’em!”

  They’re already in big trouble, Jude thought as the house came into view. He’d expected the girls to feel some resentment about his new wife, but where had such hatred and disrespect come from? Why had the twins given Stevie such awful ideas about being tied in the closet and fed chicken manure?

  As Jude drove down the lane toward the stable, he dared to believe he saw movement through the kitchen windows. It would take every ounce of restraint he could muster not to lash out at Alice and Adeline when he saw them—so he reminded himself that the knowledge he’d gained from Stevie would be an effective tool only if he kept it to himself until a moment his girls couldn’t deny it.

  “There’s the Tink buggy!” Stevie crowed as Rusty pulled them into the stable.

  Jude slipped his arm around his son as the bay entered his customary stall and came to a halt. “We guys have to stick together,” he reminded Stevie gently. “How about if you help me with the horse chores? And then, when we go inside, how about if you let me do the talking? I want to see what the girls say about their day—”

  “So they tell on themselves,” Stevie put in brightly. “You do that with me sometimes, too, coz you know everything about what I’ve been doin’, huh, Dat? You know when I’m tellin’ the truth and when I’m fibbin’.”

  Jude stifled a laugh, cherishing his son’s innocent honesty. “Yup, I know a lot—and God knows even more,” he pointed out. “That’s why it’s never a gut idea to lie. It makes us feel real nervous about keeping our story straight, and it makes God and other folks sad because they love us and they want us to be at peace with ourselves and with everyone around us.”

  Although such religious philosophy was deep for a boy who hadn’t yet started school, Jude sensed that Stevie understood it at a gut level. As he and his boy unhitched Rusty and filled the horse troughs and feed bins, Jude recalled a time when Alice and Adeline had shone with the same exuberant, forthright beliefs . . . and he wished he could return them to such a time, before hormones and the loss of their mother had altered them so drastically.

  When Jude opened the mudroom door, the aromas of beef and gravy enveloped him. The kitchen was a picture of rare domestic bliss: Alice and Adeline, dressed alike in Plain green dresses, were adding vegetables to a delicious-smelling pot of stew that bubbled on the stove while Leah was tucking a large pan of biscuits into the oven.

  Relief nearly overwhelmed him. His girls were home, apparently no worse for the day’s wear—and Leah wore a placid expression that hid a slew of secrets.

  Adeline turned toward the door, smiling. “Stevie! We made your favorite green Jell-O salad with peaches and pineapple.”

  “And biscuits to go with the beef stew,” Alice added with a purposeful gaze at Jude. “It’s going to be a yummy supper.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Jude said as he crossed the kitchen to slip his arm around Leah. She was wearing his favorite brick-red dress and a secretive smile . . . and when he nuzzled her temple, her light brown hair smelled like cigarette smoke. “How was your day?” he asked, including his daughters in the question.

  The kitchen rang with silence.

  Determined not to cave in to his curiosity—or to reveal how appalled he was about the girls’ attitude—Jude meandered over to gaze into the stew pot. He caught a whiff of English perfume, which didn’t quite mask the same acrid aroma of smoke he’d smelled on Leah. Was it his imagination, or did he also smell stale beer as the twins bustled away from him to set the table?

  “We girls were all very busy,” Leah finally replied, her purposeful gaze suggesting that Jude would be hearing more details later. “Denki for fetching Stevie.”

  Jude nodded. Surely, Alice and Adeline would suspect that Leah had had a reason for dropping off their younger brother, but he kept playing along with his wife’s ruse. “Jeremiah thought Stevie would enjoy watching the livestock—”

  “And I got to hear Dat be an auctioneer!” Stevie crowed. “He talks really fast!”

  As they set the food on the table, Alice and Adeline chatted with their brother about what he’d seen at the sale. In their crisp pleated kapps and modest dresses, the twins appeared to be models of Old Order propriety and cooperation, as though they’d gotten along with Leah since the first day she’d joined their family—as though they hadn’t been eavesdropping this morning, and overreacting to a conversation not meant for their ears. After the silent prayer, Jude allowed himself to enjoy a truly delectable stew and light, perfect biscuits, as though he believed his daughters had remained at home and out of harm’s way all day. The twins were quieter than usual.

  “You ladies have outdone yourself this evening,” he remarked as he took two more warm biscuits from the basket. He focused on Alice and Adeline, noting that they didn’t meet his gaze. “What all did you do today, girls? I’m pleased to see such an improvement in your attitude, because I was awfully concerned about you when I left for the sale this morning.”

  The twins exchanged a quick glance, shrugging simultaneously. “Not a lot,” Alice mumbled.

  “Nothing special,” Adeline put in without missing a beat. “Just another day.”

  Jude gripped the stew bowl to keep from slapping the table in frustration. Although he understood the value of hearing Leah’s version of the truth before he interrogated the twins, he despised game playing—acting as though Alice and Adeline had remained at home cooking and cleaning or working on other constructive projects, as most Amish girls their age seemed content to do.

  “But it was a special day, coz two little goats got born,” Stevie said, conveying the wonder of birth in his observation. “And they’re gonna be my little goats, coz Leah says I get to take care of ’em. And we had the best grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, too. You shoulda been here, Dat!”

  Yes, I shoulda, Jude thought, smiling at his son. Experience told him Stevie could only go so long before he blurted out everything he’d heard this afternoon, so he changed his usual evening pattern. “After being cooped up in the sale barn all day, I believe I’d like to take a walk in the fresh air and sunshine before I eat my dessert,” he said, gazing purposefully at his daughters. “If you girls will redd up the kitchen, please, Leah and I will return in a little while. And Stevie, their work will go faster if you help them.”

  Disappointment flashed in his son’s wide blue eyes, but he nodded. Alice’s and Adeline’s faces tightened with suspicion as they exchanged glances. They began scraping the dinner plates as though they might take off the dishes’ simple designs along with the food.

  “Denki for your help, kids,” Leah said as she rose from her chair. “I’ll grab my coat, Jude, and off we go.”

  Jude’s pulse thrummed as he preceded her into the mudroom. He held Leah’s barn jacket as she shrugged into it, thinking he owed her a million more signs of his love and respect, considering what she’d endured since the wee hours of their morning.

  “I love you,” he whispered as he let his hands linger on her slender shoulders. “I apologize for whatever you went through today—and I want to hear all the details.”

  Fatigue lined Leah’s eyes, yet her smile radiated her love for him. “All in gut time,” she whispered with a slight nod toward the kitchen. “The walls have ears, after all.”

  * * *

  The mudroom door had no more than closed before Alice narrowed her eyes, pointing at her little brother. “What’d you tell her today, Stevie?” she demanded.

  “Jah, how’d she know
where to find us?” Adeline put in stiffly. “You’re in deep trouble if you’ve let on about the stuff we say and do when—”

  Stevie crossed his arms, looking away. “How could I tell anybody where you were?” he replied. “I couldn’t carry no tales, because I didn’t know nothin’ about where you were or—”

  “Don’t play stupid!” Alice blurted out, grabbing his shoulder to shake some sense into him. “If Uncle Jeremiah took you to the sale barn, that means Leah dropped you off at his place—”

  “And you just can’t keep your mouth shut when you’re around him!” Adeline finished. She stood beside her sister, both with their fists on their hips, glaring at Stevie. “How much do he and Dat know?”

  Stevie seemed oddly calm for a kid who usually cried at the first sign of conflict. His lips twitched as though he was trying not to laugh. “I dunno,” he said with a shrug.

  “But you had to’ve heard every word they said!” Alice retorted.

  Stevie shrugged again. “Maybe I did, and maybe they were talkin’ in the other room so I couldn’t hear,” he said. “When Dat and I got home, he said he was gonna do the talkin’ and I was supposed to keep quiet. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it. Me and Dat, we’re a team.”

  “He’s not even your father!” Adeline reminded him hotly. “Why should you do what he tells you instead of listening to us?”

  Stevie looked ready to cry, yet he stood taller. “Maybe you’re lyin’ about that—like you’ve told me lies before,” he said in a quavering voice. “He’s my dat, and that’s that. You’re in big trouble, and it’s not my fault. I’m goin’ out to see the goats.”

  Stevie bolted before Alice could catch him. As the slam of the door reverberated in the kitchen, she exhaled loudly. “Well, are we going to hang around here and clean up the kitchen, or is it time to just leave?”

  “Where will we go?” Adeline challenged. “If Dexter and Phil hadn’t left us hanging at the pool hall—if they’d come back for us like they said they would—we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

  Alice laughed bitterly. “I have half a mind to call Phil and give him an earful, but then he and Dex would probably dump us for gut.”

  “Jah, so much for them being our ticket out of here. At least today.” Adeline glared at the bowls of congealing stew and green gelatin salad. “Let’s clean up this mess and see what Jude and Leah lay on us when they get back. At least we’ll know what they’ve found out about us.”

  “Jah, you know Dat—er, Judah—will spell it all out when he gets back from his walk, because Leah will tell him everything even though she promised she’d keep her mouth shut.” Alice spat at the stack of plates on the table. “Two-faced liar. What does he see in her, anyway?”

  Chapter 9

  By the time Leah had revealed the knowledge she’d gained about the twins this afternoon, she felt much better. It was such a comfort to walk arm in arm with Jude, their pace slower now that she had shared the most appalling of the details about Adeline and Alice. When Jude stepped in front of her, stopping at the edge of the unplowed cornfield south of the house, his eyes glimmered like dark, hot chocolate.

  “Leah, I had no idea my girls were so far gone,” he said sadly. “You probably saved them from a fate worse than we want to imagine when you went after them today, and I owe you a debt I can never repay.”

  Leah’s heart thudded steadily when he pulled her close and kissed her. The evening wind was picking up enough that she grabbed the strings of her kapp to keep it from blowing off, yet the cold didn’t faze her. She always felt so safe and warm—so centered—when Jude held her this way. “What bothered me most was that the girls seemed so comfortable with their cigarettes and beer in that smoky old pool hall,” she said, shaking her head. “Another girl around their age was so deep into flirting with two of the guys that they pulled her tank top down and—well, I—I was about ready to run at that point.”

  Jude sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “When I smelled smoke on you, the pool hall was the first place that came to mind,” he admitted. “Back in my wilder days, Jeremiah and I spent some time there. I can only imagine how much tackier the place must be by now, and I can’t imagine the clientele has improved over the years, either.”

  “Why would so many young men be spending their time there?” Leah asked in disbelief. “Why don’t they have jobs, or families, or—”

  “A lot of them work the night shift at the pet food processing plant down the road—not that such work makes them bad people,” he added quickly. “It just means they have time to kill during the day, and at that age, young men tend to congregate at places where they can eat cheap meals and drink beer. I’ve known a few Amish boys who’ve worked at the plant—and a few who’ve spent some time shooting pool during their rumspringa.”

  Leah frowned, considering this. “I can’t imagine Plain fellows wanting to endure such ridicule about their clothing, just to play pool and drink beer.”

  Jude smiled sadly at her. “They wear English jeans and shirts, just like Alice and Adeline, so they sort of blend in with the crowd,” he explained. “Considering how Jeremiah and I did that now and again, I should’ve guessed my girls might be masquerading as English. I just never dreamed they’d have any reason to go to such a dive.”

  “Maybe those English guys they supposedly run with work at the pet food plant,” she mused aloud. “I didn’t see any sign of them, but I got the feeling the girls were waiting for them.”

  “With dangly earrings and Tinker Bell tattoos,” Jude muttered, shaking his head as he gazed toward the house. “I have half a notion to cut down that big tree by their bedroom window, except it shades that whole side of the house in the summer.”

  Leah smiled sadly, tracing the lines that bracketed Jude’s mouth until her fingertips teased his cropped, curly beard. “I suspect they’d find other ways—other times—to slip away, if they’re so intent on being away from home to socialize with boys.”

  “Jah, well—their old man might just take them down a peg or two,” Jude blurted out. “Rumspringa or not—no matter what they heard through the wall—I’m still their dat, and I’m responsible for their well-being until they marry. At the rate they’re sliding downhill, no respectable Amish men will want to hitch up with them if they’ve become too worldly or too free with their favors.”

  Leah winced. Alice and Adeline might be sophisticated enough to pass for English at a pool hall, but that didn’t mean they knew how to prevent a pregnancy. And because they did everything together, chances were good that if one of them was getting intimate with boys, the other was, too.

  Jude would love and support his girls no matter what they did, but he would be crushed—and he’d become the topic of hot, disapproving gossip—if he had to send the twins away to have babies out of wedlock.

  “What’s our next move?” Leah asked softly. “Just so you’ll know, I had to promise them I’d not tell you anything to get them to come home today.”

  “Puh! They lost the right to our silence the moment Jeremiah walked into the sale barn with Stevie today to tell me where you’d gone. Bishop Vernon was in on the conversation, too.” Jude wrapped his arm around Leah’s shoulders and started walking toward the house. “It’s time for some tough talk on my part and some straight answers on theirs.”

  Although Leah knew they were doing the right thing by challenging the twins to own up to their questionable behavior and change their ways, she prayed that Jude would find words to straighten them out without further alienating them. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be for them to question their lineage—to doubt their deceased mother’s integrity.

  Please, Lord, don’t let them rush down the same primrose path Frieda followed, getting too involved with those English boys just to spite their dat. They have no idea how quickly their lives can spin out of control.

  As they got close to home, squares of soft yellow lamplight glowed in the windows, and the white house seemed to shim
mer serenely in the blue light of the dusk. Leah’s sense of peacefulness was shattered as soon as she and Jude entered the kitchen: Adeline and Alice awaited them at the kitchen table, their young faces showing they were spoiling for a confrontation.

  “I suppose you told him every little thing,” Alice accused, glaring at Leah and then at Jude.

  “Why should we stay here, when no one respects our right to privacy?” Adeline put in without missing a beat.

  “Matter of fact,” Jude jumped in before the twins could continue, “you can stop blaming Leah right now, because your uncle Jeremiah—not to mention Bishop Vernon from Cedar Creek—had already caught wind of your mischief and informed me about their suspicions before Leah did. The Amish grapevine runs swift and spares nobody, girls, so rest assured that your reputations are already toast.”

  As one, the girls each raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “That is such a stupid threat that—”

  “You can’t tell me that anybody knows where we’ve been, so—”

  “Leah found you, didn’t she?” Jude challenged. He rested his hands on the tabletop, leaning low to gaze into Alice’s eyes and then Adeline’s. “You girls are grounded. You’re not to leave home except to go to church unless you’re accompanied by either Leah or me. No arguments.” He held out his hand. “I’ll be taking your cell phone, too, since you somehow latched onto a much fancier model than the bishop or I allowed you to have.”

  Their eyes widened as they indignantly sucked in air.

  “But you can’t—”

  “While we’re in rumspringa, you have no—”

  “Like it or not, I’m your father and I’m responsible for you,” Jude interrupted in a rising voice. “Girls who wear sheer blouses that show off their black underthings and Tinker Bell tattoos are already on the highway to hell, so starting now, your rights and privacy are the least of my concerns. You’ll be staying home, so you won’t be needing those tight jeans or dangly earrings—”