Her Brother's Keeper Read online

  Once Jacob had put the last of her things out in the grass, he came back inside and stood beside his father, both with arms folded across their chests, scowling. Lena dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, stared long and hard at Charlotte, then she also went upstairs.

  “I’m sorry,” Charlotte said in a choked whisper. “For everything . . .” She finally spun around and ran out the door. Sitting down on one of her suitcases, she buried her face in her hands and wept, wondering if the outcome would have been different if Charlotte had confessed before they’d found out. At least they wouldn’t have read her letters to Ethan and private journal entries.

  She stood up, tempted to go back inside and make a final plea, but the look on Amos’s face as he stood on the other side of the screen door kept her from moving. She glanced up toward the second story and saw Hannah. Even in the distance Charlotte could see her sobbing. “I’m sorry!” she yelled upward to Hannah. It was then that Amos slammed the door.

  Forgiving? Really, Ryan? They can forgive people who murder their children, but they can’t forgive me? She looked up at the clouds. Why, God? Why did You let this happen? She wondered if God would be with her when she left this place, or if He would forsake her as well. She turned around when she heard the door open. It was Hannah, carrying something. Charlotte hoped it was the recipe box and potholders. But as Hannah got closer, Charlotte could see that she was carrying a small book.

  “Here.” Hannah handed it to Charlotte. “Since you seem to believe that you are your brother’s only keeper, maybe this will make sense to you.”

  Charlotte held the book in her hands, then instinctively held it to her nose, as if she might breathe in the scent of Ethan. “His Bible?”

  Hannah wasn’t crying anymore as she shook her head. “Nee. I don’t know what it is. I found the book at his house, but it must be in another language. Maybe you will know how to read it. Maybe it will give you the answers you are looking for.”

  Charlotte studied the brown leather book, then looked up at Hannah, knowing she would drop to her knees and beg if Hannah would forgive her. Instead, she opened the book to the first page, and right away she knew that it was meant for her, or at the very least . . . it was not meant for Hannah.

  “You went to a lot of trouble and told a lot of lies to find out why Ethan killed himself. It must be very important to you to understand.”

  “Of course it is. Don’t you want to know?” Charlotte thought about the picture and the note on the back.

  Hannah offered a weak smile. “I don’t think any of us truly knows what goes on inside someone’s head . . . or heart.” She paused. “I’m sorry things worked out this way. You could have just walked up to the door, said you were Ethan’s sister, and I would have told you anything you wanted to know.”

  Charlotte hung her head, kicking the grass with her black loafer, knowing it would be the last time she’d wear the shoes. “I thought maybe you’d brainwashed him somehow.” She looked up. “It wasn’t until I spent time here that I realized that . . . that your people . . . well, you’re the real deal. I didn’t know God before I got here.” When Hannah didn’t say anything, Charlotte went on. “Why can’t you and your family forgive me, like you talk about in devotions, how God forgives all of our sins?” Charlotte was surprised when a tear slid down her cheek since she was sure she didn’t have any left.

  “We’re human, Mary.” Hannah sighed. “I mean Charlotte. In time, we will forgive. I will be praying about it—and for you—constantly. Ethan loved you very much. I’d always wanted to meet you. At least I did before he died and you forced us to send his body to you against his wishes.”

  Charlotte swiped at her eyes, longing for a hug, but knowing one wasn’t coming. She turned toward the road when she heard a car coming. “I guess that’s my ride.”

  Hannah blinked back tears. “Ya. God’s peace, Charlotte.” And she headed toward the house.

  Charlotte turned away from Hannah and waited for the blue car. But then she remembered something and spun around. “Hannah, wait.”

  Hannah stopped and slowly turned around.

  “The day we looked for pictures in the clouds, I saw something.”

  Hannah took a few steps closer to her, but didn’t say anything.

  “You said you’ve always wondered if Ethan was in heaven, and for me . . . at that time . . . I wasn’t even sure there was a God or heaven. But all of a sudden, the clouds seemed to split open and plain as day I saw butterflies, and I knew it was Ethan telling me that he was in heaven. I couldn’t tell you at the time, but anyone who knows Ethan knows that—”

  “Butterflies are always around him,” Hannah said as her eyes filled with tears. “They used to land on him all the time.” She took a few steps toward Charlotte. “Did you really see that? Or are you just trying to make this all better?”

  “I saw it. I believe it’s a sign that Ethan is with God.” Charlotte turned toward the car when she heard the door slam.

  “Someone called for a driver?” An elderly man walked toward Charlotte’s suitcases, and she nodded.

  Charlotte waited until the man was stowing the suitcases in the trunk before she spoke. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know . . . about what I saw. So, I’ll leave with you all hating me, and I wouldn’t say I know God very well, but it is a step in the right direction that might not have happened if things had unfolded differently. I just regret that I’m no longer part of this family.”

  “You never were,” she said slowly, and Charlotte could feel the knife piercing her heart as Hannah turned and walked back to the house.

  Seventeen

  Hannah waved off her mother when she walked back into the living room. “I don’t want to talk right now.” She hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and she closed her bedroom door behind her. After she fell onto the bed, she buried her head in her pillow and sobbed until her head was splitting. She forced back the tears and sat up. She opened the drawer of her nightstand and took out the picture she’d found while packing Charlotte’s things. And for the hundredth time, she read the inscription on the back. To my one and only. I love you . . .

  She wasn’t sure which blow to her heart hurt the most—Charlotte’s lies, Ethan’s death, or the picture of Edna. Ethan, why? Hannah wondered if Charlotte had brought the picture from home or if maybe she’d gone to Ethan’s house when she went on her walks. Most likely, Charlotte had found the photo at Ethan’s house.

  After another hour of crying, wondering, and praying, she dried her tears. Ethan was gone. And Charlotte was gone. But Edna was right around the corner.

  Charlotte tearfully told Ryan the whole story as she lay on the bed in her hotel room. As upset as she was, at least she wasn’t sweating. The first thing she’d done when she got to her room was to turn the air conditioning on high.

  “So, I booked a flight home for tomorrow morning,” she said, unable to control the tears.

  “Sweetie, I’m so sorry things turned out this way.”

  Charlotte cried even harder at the sound of Ryan’s soothing voice and endearment. “I just want to come home.”

  “I think that the journal entries and letters to Ethan they found just added salt to an open wound. But maybe in time they will heal and let you back into their lives. I know how much you grew to care about them.”

  “They are so real—so loving and genuine. I don’t know how to explain it. And I’d do anything to have a family like that. Anything.”

  Ryan promised to call her later, and after she’d showered, cried some more, and squeezed into a pair of blue jeans and a T-shirt, she sat down on the bed, realizing she already missed her Amish clothes. After another ten minutes of feeling sorry for herself, she rummaged through her suitcases and piled her dresses, black socks, prayer coverings, and extra pair of black shoes on the bed. She hated to throw good clothes away, so she decided that tomorrow morning, she’d just leave them on the bed. Maybe someone from housekeeping could find a home for them.
r />   She slipped on a pair of flip-flops, then repacked what was left, which wasn’t much. It all fit in one suitcase. Then a jolt of adrenaline spiked, and she hurriedly started pulling everything out again as she searched for the picture of Edna.

  Oh no. Hannah had been hurt enough, but after Charlotte searched and searched again through her things, she knew that Hannah or Lena must have found the photo. She dumped her purse on the bed, but no picture.

  Isaac guided his buggy up the driveway to Hannah’s house. Mary’s voice mail was confusing, but her message said that Hannah would explain everything. Isaac had been hesitant to leave his mother, but she was going to run errands anyway, and she insisted that Isaac’s father was much better since the doctors had adjusted his medications. Isaac was still keeping a close eye on both of them.

  Lena met Isaac at the door, then went and got Hannah.

  “Wie bischt? Can we talk?” Isaac stepped outside when Hannah pushed the screen door open. “Are you okay? I got a confusing voice mail message from Mary.”

  Hannah pulled a tissue from her apron pocket and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m okay. I think. But Mary isn’t that woman’s real name.”

  Isaac stayed beside Hannah as they walked down the porch steps to a bench near the garden. Once they’d sat down, Hannah burst into tears. Isaac put his arm around her as she told the strange tale about Mary—Charlotte. So, that’s why she’d asked so many questions about Ethan.

  “It’s all so awful,” Hannah said, sniffling. “And now I’m also left wondering if Ethan was in love with someone else.” She pulled a picture from her pocket and handed it to Isaac.

  His chest tightened when he read the note on the back of the photo, wanting to choose his words carefully so he wouldn’t upset her even more. But it certainly appeared that Ethan and Edna had been carrying on in an inappropriate way for her to write a note like that. He’d tried to talk himself out of that notion when he’d first seen them together at the restaurant. But this seemed like proof that they’d become romantically involved. Posed pictures were mostly forbidden. It wouldn’t get a person shunned or anything, but it was looked down upon.

  He handed the photo back to Hannah. “I’m not sure what to think about that.” She was so upset that Isaac wondered if she really was ready to move on. And Isaac was still processing everything she’d told him.

  “Charlotte was like my sister. We’d grown very close. It’s a toss-up as to what I’m the most hurt about.” Hannah paused. “After thinking about it, in some ways, her coming here was good. She said she found the Lord while she was here.” She blotted her eyes again as Isaac kept his arm around her, gently rubbing her shoulder. Then she offered a weak smile. “Like Ethan. He always said we saved him. Maybe we saved Charlotte, too, and it was all part of God’s plan.”

  Isaac was at a loss for words. Charlotte had asked a lot of questions, some of which Isaac had answered. He wasn’t going to lie to Hannah, but he hoped she didn’t ask if Isaac knew anything about Ethan and Edna. Isaac didn’t want to be the one to confirm her suspicions.

  “Are you going to ask Edna about the photo?” Isaac thought about the mess it would stir up if Edna’s fiancé found out. But, right or wrong, it didn’t seem fair for Edna to have contributed to something that caused so much pain for so many people.

  “I don’t know.” Hannah sniffled as she locked eyes with him. “I’m glad you’re here, Isaac.” She put her head on his shoulder and found his hand, latching on tightly.

  As good as it felt to have her near him, clinging to him, he didn’t want secrets between them, and his stomach was churning with anxiety. He eased her away, keeping hold of her hand. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Ach, nee.” She let go of his hand and brought it to her chest. “You sound so serious, and I’m not sure my heart can take anything else.”

  Since there was no good way to tell her, Isaac just blurted it out. “I saw Ethan and Edna together once.”

  Hannah stared across the yard, a faraway look in her eyes. “Did everyone know that Ethan and Edna were carrying on? Everyone but me?”

  “Nee, not that I know of. I only saw them together one time. I didn’t feel like it was my place to say anything.” He touched her chin and gently turned her to face him. “But I never thought Ethan was worthy of your love after that. And because of that, I never reached out to Ethan when I could tell that he was depressed, in need of a friend. Maybe if I had, he wouldn’t have felt so hopeless.”

  Hannah was quiet for a while. “I think maybe Jacob knew something. He seemed to like Ethan in the beginning, but later in our relationship, Jacob stopped wanting to be around him.” She made fists with both her hands and gently hit her knees. “I don’t know who to trust! I’m mad. I’m hurt. And . . .” She searched Isaac’s eyes, needing answers, but Isaac didn’t have them.

  “I promise you can trust me, Hannah.”

  Isaac’s heart sank when she resumed staring, the faraway look in her eyes again. He knew he couldn’t expect her to blindly trust anymore. He’d have to earn it.

  Charlotte stowed her purse underneath the seat in front of her and fastened her seat belt. She was thankful for a window seat, and in three hours, Pennsylvania, Hannah, Isaac, and all they represented would be behind her. She was hopeful that God was traveling home with her.

  In her heart, she knew He was, but she was having a hard time understanding how God had let things fall apart like this. Her first conclusion, that God was punishing her. For all the lies and deceptions. She’d asked for His forgiveness repeatedly, and through the Amish worship services she’d attended, she knew that God forgave you the moment you asked Him. So, in hindsight, maybe God had forgiven her, and the horrific pain she felt was her inability to forgive herself. She wasn’t the same person she’d been when she first arrived in Paradise, so she was going to choose to believe the latter, that God had forgiven her. Forgiving herself might take time.

  Either way, she was going home. Back to the life she’d had before she knew what it was like to have a loving family, a sister, and a place to belong. She leaned her head back against the seat as the pilot fired up the engines. Normally, she’d be nervous until the plane was off the ground and leveled out, but today, other worries consumed her, and crashing into the ocean didn’t sound so bad. Right away, she thought about Ethan and regretted her thought. She was sad, but she didn’t want to die.

  Following an unusually rough takeoff, Charlotte waited until her pulse got back to normal, then she reached into her purse and took out the small book Hannah had given her. She tapped her finger against the brown leather, nervous to read it. Would it make her feel better or worse? Then she tapped some more, but when the man next to her cleared his throat, she stopped. “Sorry,” she whispered.

  The older man cleared his throat two more times, and Charlotte realized it didn’t have anything to do with her. Then he coughed. Again and again until his face turned bright red.

  “Sir, are you okay?” Charlotte turned to her right, but felt her jaw drop a bit when the man’s dark hair . . . moved. The elderly man looked to be in his late seventies, but there wasn’t a gray hair on his head, and a dark blob of hair danced around on the top of his head. The harder he coughed, the more dancing, and Charlotte was sure it was going to flop right off his head and into her lap.

  She twisted around and looked over her seat, but she didn’t see a flight attendant anywhere. This guy needed something to drink. His cough was deep and raspy, and Charlotte strained to look around him and down the aisle. No food or beverage cart in sight. Then the coughing stopped.

  “Well, that was bothersome.” The man shook his head, and again, Charlotte feared his hairpiece was going to fly off. “So sorry. I’m sure that couldn’t have been pleasant for you.”

  Charlotte smiled. “No, it’s fine. But you had me worried for a minute.”

  “My name is Nicholas, and it is my pleasure to be sitting next to someone as lovely as yourself.”

  If the guy
hadn’t been old enough to be her grandfather, Charlotte might have found him a bit creepy, but he had a warm smile, even though his breath hinted that he might have had garlic recently.

  “Thank you. That’s very sweet. I’m Charlotte.”

  Nicholas nodded, and Charlotte refocused on Ethan’s book. She was going to read what he’d written, it was just a matter of when. But it would take awhile to decipher, and Charlotte’s head was splitting. She was worried about Hannah, what she was thinking, if she for sure had the photo of Edna, if she’d confronted Edna. Maybe she’d never know the whole story, only the little bit that Isaac had told her, confirmed in a photo that Ethan and Edna had shared at least one instance of intimacy. Charlotte hoped that’s all it was, a lapse in judgment, a weak moment. Mostly, she hoped Hannah didn’t have the picture.

  She tapped a finger, lightly this time, against the cover, knowing that once she’d read it, she couldn’t unknow what it said. The knowledge would be hers, for better or worse. Leaning back against the seat, she closed her eyes. Ethan, what should I do? Again, she wondered if what he’d written was for her. So she’d understand. Before she could give it much more thought, Nicholas elbowed her. She opened her eyes and turned toward him.

  “My bad.” He chuckled. “So sorry. I was just trying to reach down into my bag to retrieve my book.”

  Charlotte smiled at his use of slang—my bad. “No problem.”

  “Be glad that you are not a fat person. It is cumbersome.” He shook his head. “There are more overweight people in the world than ever before. You would think that the airlines would make bigger seats.” He laughed again, and Charlotte noticed his pearly whites on the top and bottom, too perfect to be real. She fought the urge to reach up and straighten his toupee.