Her Brother's Keeper Read online

  Hannah replied to him. In Dutch, of course. Then she turned to Charlotte, folded her hands in front of her, and seemed to be waiting for Charlotte to respond. “Uh, gut . . . gut to meet y’all,” she finally said. She cut her eyes in Hannah’s direction, and her brother’s ex-fiancée nodded, then spoke to the owner in their language again. Based on Hannah’s expression, Charlotte’s response must have been okay. When Hannah started to walk around the store, Charlotte took off in another direction. She needed a few minutes to gather herself, and she’d already seen several Amish women where Hannah was headed. She didn’t want to face having more conversation she wouldn’t understand.

  Right then, she laid eyes on a book she needed to have. Pennsylvania German Dictionary: English to Pennsylvania Dutch. She looked over her shoulder to make sure she was alone, then she picked up the book and thumbed through it. Perfect.

  She tucked it under her arm, turned around, and headed toward the counter but stopped dead in her tracks, did an about-face, and went back to where she’d found the book. She placed it back on the shelf and stared at it. Stupid, stupid. Hannah and the owner would wonder why she was buying a book about a language she was presumed to know and understand. Glancing over her shoulder again, she pushed her purse up on her arm and had a thought.

  Charlotte had never stolen anything in her life, but if she was going to pull this off, she needed that book. One more glance behind her, then she grabbed the book and stuffed it into her purse. But the moment she’d safely gotten away with it, her stomach began to churn. She reached back into her purse and pulled out her wallet. The book was $12.99, so she pulled out a twenty and placed it on the bookshelf before she turned to leave the scene of what was almost a crime.

  She ran into Hannah on the next aisle and was happy to see that she was alone. When Hannah wasn’t around other Amish people, she mostly spoke English. Charlotte had no idea why, but she was thankful just the same.

  “Would you like to go to Bird-in-Hand next?” Hannah smiled, and for a couple of moments, Charlotte just stared at her. She could certainly see why Ethan had been so attracted to this woman. But Charlotte would do anything if she could go back in time and talk Ethan out of ever coming here.

  “Mary?”

  Charlotte blinked a few times. “Uh, yeah. Ya. Sorry.” She took a deep breath. “Sure. Bird-in-Hand. That sounds fine. Gut.”

  She wanted to ask if they would be traveling on the main highway again, and she briefly considered saying she had a stomachache so she could go back to the farmhouse. But based on the number of buggies she’d seen on the way to the bookstore, this was the prominent mode of transportation, and she was going to have to get used to it.

  Hannah picked up the pace once she was on Lincoln Highway, but quickly slowed back down when the color drained from Mary’s face. “Mary, are you all right?”

  Her cousin nodded. “I think so.” Her eyes darted back and forth between cars in front of them and the ones coming up behind them. “I’m just not used to being in a buggy with all these cars whizzing by at high speeds.”

  Hannah slowed down even more, although it was probably more dangerous to go so slow. “You must live in a very rural area in Texas, ya?”

  Mary reached for the dash when Hannah hit a bump in the road. “Uh . . . I guess you could say that.”

  “We are turning in about half a mile, and that road is less traveled.”

  They were both quiet for a few minutes, but when the silence started to become awkward, Hannah began searching for something to talk about. She was curious to know if Mary had a boyfriend back home. Maybe not, since she had gawked at Isaac Miller. Her mother had already told her that their cousin wasn’t married. Hannah felt like an old maid at twenty-four. Mary must feel even worse at twenty-six. But starting a conversation about relationships would only lead to talking about Ethan, and she wasn’t ready to share such intimate details of her life with a stranger, cousin or not.

  She finally asked Mary about her life in Texas, even though she didn’t really care. She didn’t care about much of anything these days. But in an effort to keep her family from worrying, she faked her way through each day. Hannah prayed every day for Ethan’s soul, but her biggest fear was still heavy on her heart. Was Ethan in heaven? Hannah had lost her grandmother to cancer, and she’d attended plenty of funerals over the years. But not once did she question whether or not the person had gone to their eternal rest with the Lord. But it was different with Ethan.

  By the time Charlotte and Hannah got home, the last meal of the day was already laid out on the kitchen table. Charlotte nibbled, but four thirty seemed early for supper, especially since she’d eaten so much at the pizza place. She already knew the Amish called the evening meal “supper,” and “dinner” was at lunchtime. And that they started their day at about four in the morning, but luckily Lena had suggested Charlotte sleep in on that first morning, assuming she was weary from her travels. By the time she’d gotten up this morning, Hannah’s father and brother were already gone, and her nap last night had run past their supper hour. This meal was her first time to meet Hannah’s dad and brother.

  Hannah’s father, Amos, was quiet. And sixteen-year-old Jacob was . . . strange. But in an interesting sort of way. Charlotte had always been fascinated with meteors, the Big Bang theory, planets outside the solar system, and anything to do with space. Jacob seemed to share that passion, even though Lena’s frequent glares at her son seemed to insinuate that she didn’t think it was appropriate supper conversation. A comment about the heat generated a list of factoids from young Jacob. And thankfully he spoke in English. A few times, Lena and Hannah had drifted into their native dialect, but luckily none of the conversation seemed directed at Charlotte.

  “The sun is fifteen million degrees Celsius at its core, but only fifty-five hundred on the surface,” Jacob said as he reached for a slice of bread. To Charlotte’s horror, there was only one slice left, so she snatched it before someone else did. Full or not, she didn’t think she’d ever get enough of the bread here. She was pretty sure Jacob had already had several slices. As Charlotte spread butter over the moist, warm bread, she thought about Ethan as a teenager. Her brother had always had a healthy appetite. She listened with interest to Jacob talk about moon landings, Pluto, and space debris, but when he started talking about NASA funding and the political aspects of space exploration, Lena shut him down.

  “That’s enough, Jacob.” Lena scowled at her son.

  Too bad. For Charlotte, it had been the most interesting conversation she’d had with any of them. After the meal, she excused herself. She wanted to start studying her new book.

  Two hours later, she’d highlighted words and phrases she thought she could use, but she wondered if it would be enough to fake her way through a conversation. When her eyes grew heavy, she set the book aside, opting not to call Ryan till later since she couldn’t stop yawning. It was too early for bed, not even seven p.m., so she’d just close her eyes for a little while.

  Hannah watched her cousin walk up the stairs, and she waited until her father and Jacob had gone outside to tend to the animals before she spoke to her mother.

  “What kind of Amish community is Mary from? She doesn’t offer to help clean the kitchen, and we both saw what kind of gardener she is.” Hannah stacked dirty plates, shaking her head at the amount of uneaten food on Mary’s plate. Wasteful. “She talks funny too. Half the time, I’m not even sure she understands the Deitsch. I’ve been speaking to her in English.”

  “Mei maedel, remember our trip to Ohio? Things were very different there.” Her mother stowed the chowchow and butter in the refrigerator. The propane truck was scheduled to deliver the following day, thankfully. They were almost out, and the refrigerator was filled to capacity, mostly with goat milk. For as long as Hannah could remember, cows were for eating, goats were for everything else. Most of their people had milking goats and made cheeses, soaps, butter, and lotions. But Mamm used it for everything. Any recipe that c
alled for milk, she used goat milk. She also made face cream for dry skin and a salve to put on wounds.

  “I know that things are not always the same in other districts,” Hannah finally said. “But her community must be very different.”

  Mamm draped the kitchen towel over her shoulder and smiled. “And this is gut. We can learn from her about their ways.”

  Hannah shrugged. “I guess.” Her mother was so happy to have a new cousin that Hannah let the subject drop.

  It also struck Hannah as odd that Mary didn’t even inquire about daily devotions. Surely, she and her family spent time together in the evenings giving thanks and praise to God.

  Charlotte only napped for about thirty minutes, but she waited until almost eleven before calling Ryan. “Sorry it’s so late,” she said when he answered. “I think everyone was in bed by eight, except for Jacob, the teenager. I kept hearing noises off and on, but last I peeked across the hall, his room was dark and all was quiet.” She glanced at the lantern on her nightstand, then at the flashlight on her bed, which illuminated the far wall, casting a shadow from the trees outside. She wasn’t planning to light the lantern. It was bad enough that there were open flames all over the house, but she wasn’t going to have one in the room she was sleeping in. One fire in her life had been enough, and the first thing she’d done after that was to buy a long rope that she kept with her whenever she stayed somewhere overnight. She stowed it under the bed. She was never going to be trapped by fire again.

  “It’s fine. You know I stay up late. I have an early flight tomorrow, but it still wouldn’t seem normal to go to bed before midnight.”

  Charlotte wanted to know a lot more about Ryan, but she did know that he traveled quite a bit for work and that he was a night owl. And it had worked out okay since in the time she’d been waiting for everyone to fall asleep, she’d continued her crash course in Pennsylvania Dutch. Yawning, she laid her head back against the pillow, then filled him in on her day.

  Ryan was quiet for a few moments before he said, “Um . . . it almost sounds like you had a good time.”

  Charlotte sat up, twirled a strand of hair, and gave some thought to his comment. “Well, it’s different. It’s kind of an adventure. But I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to riding in those buggies on busy highways.” She paused and lowered her voice, even though she was sure the hum from the battery-operated fan in her room would drown out the sound. “I won’t lose track of why I’m here, if you’re worried about that. My sole purpose is to find out what happened to Ethan. I won’t be lured into their world.” It struck her that they may try to brainwash her into staying here. Maybe that’s what happened to Ethan.

  “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying yourself while you’re there. I’m just a little surprised. The Amish are known to be really . . . religious.”

  Charlotte folded her legs beneath her and sat taller in the darkness. “What does that have to do with anything?” Ryan knew that neither Charlotte nor Ethan had been raised in a church setting the way he had. But it sure hadn’t stopped Ethan from joining up with these people.

  “Nothing, really,” Ryan said. “I just wondered if it made you uncomfortable. Don’t they pray a lot, several times a day?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I read on the Internet before I came here that most Amish families pray together at night, so I’ve just been excusing myself early. And I just bowed my head when they did at meals. I’m not worried about that. I can fake my way through some prayers. The problem I’m having is with the language. The ladies in Beeville spoke mostly English to me.”

  Ryan chuckled. “That’s because they knew you didn’t speak Pennsylvania Dutch. These people think you’re Amish, so they’re going to talk to you in their native dialect. I thought you’d practiced up on that.”

  “I did, but my knowledge of their language is comparable to knowing a little conversational Italian before you go to Italy. You can ask for the check or where the bathroom is, but that’s about it. I should have known they would speak their language more frequently.” She sighed.

  “Just do the best you can.”

  They were both quiet for a while before Charlotte asked, “Do you think Ethan would be mad about what we’re doing?”

  “We?” He laughed again. That was one of the things Charlotte liked most about Ryan. That he laughed a lot. He’d told her over one of their lunches that she didn’t laugh enough. She’d pondered that comment ever since. She’d always thought of herself as a fairly happy person. Despite the grief she was clinging to over Ethan’s death, she still found joy, even if it was in limited doses. She’d battled some demons in the past, but overall, she’d trained herself to be happy. Forced happiness is what her therapist called it as he encouraged her to go deeper into herself to discover what real happiness could be. Charlotte would just nod, having no idea of the difference. Happy was happy. Sad was sad.

  “Hey, just because I’m the one in the Amish clothes, you’re in this too,” she said jokingly, then added in a more serious tone, “You didn’t argue when I said I wanted to do this. I know you are just as curious about what pushed Ethan over the edge as I am.”

  “Yeah, I am. But I hate that you’re having to pretend to be Amish.” He paused and took a deep breath. “And to answer your question, yes . . . Ethan would probably be ticked if he knew about you—I mean us—lying to the woman he loved and her family.”

  “I know. And I don’t feel good about it, but I just can’t shake the feeling that maybe Hannah knows something more about his death. She was engaged to the guy.”

  “I just wish we could have come up with a better plan.”

  Charlotte pointed the flashlight at the ceiling and moved it in circles above her head. “Well, I couldn’t think of anything else. And the fact that Hannah is so tight-lipped makes me suspicious.” She paused, thinking about her day. “And I could be way off, but I think Hannah is suspicious of me too. Lena is beyond excited to have me here, but sometimes I catch Hannah looking at me funny.”

  “Maybe you just feel guilty, and you’re imagining that she’s on to you. But I’ve always heard that the Amish like to keep to themselves. Although, they think you are Amish, so that doesn’t really apply.”

  “I know. I read that online. But I don’t believe they walk the walk like they preach, acting all holy and better than everyone else.”

  Ryan was quiet.

  “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. But I think you’re wrong about them. They’re known to be a Christ-centered group, and the reason they detach themselves from outsiders is because they believe themselves to be unequally yoked.”

  “Exactly. They think they’re better than everyone else.”

  Ryan let out a light chuckle. “Get to know them before you judge them. Or better yet, try not to judge them. Hey, maybe you’ll learn something.”

  “The only thing I need to learn right now is how to speak their language. Oh, and how to fall asleep without air conditioning.” She smiled as she started swirling the flashlight overhead again. “But, hey, I’ll take one for our team.”

  Ryan was quiet, and when he hadn’t said anything after a long pause, she finally asked, “Having second thoughts?” She turned the flashlight off, but quickly flipped it back on. A lamp in the yard—presumably propane—shone in the distance, barely casting a faint glow against her window. She wasn’t fond of the dark, and despite the heat, she felt a chill run the length of her spine.

  “No second thoughts. I already faced my guilt, and even though I know God is frowning, I want to know about Ethan.” He paused again. “I remember Ethan telling me at Donna and Shane’s wedding that he hoped to be dancing to good music well into his eighties.” Ryan sighed.

  Charlotte was reminded of the dance that she and Ryan had shared at the wedding of their mutual friends. Ryan wasn’t too tall, but the perfect height for someone petite like Charlotte. He kept his dark hair cut short, and he had kind, gray-blue eyes that reflected his person
ality. He was a good guy. But he was a little heavy on the religious stuff sometimes, and Charlotte didn’t know enough about the subject to engage him in a conversation. She only knew that the God everyone spoke about hadn’t shown Himself to her. If God was God, then He could do anything. Why hadn’t He helped her brother, someone who had chosen to trust Him?

  “I don’t know about God frowning. I’m trying to get a visual of that,” she said as she rolled onto her side, keeping the flashlight on. “I’m imagining a giant super-being hovering above in the clouds looking down on you, scowling.”

  Another chortle from Ryan. “More of a figure of speech, but I do feel bad about the deception, and I’m sure God wouldn’t approve.”

  “Hmm . . .”

  Charlotte had often wondered about the friendship between Ryan and Ethan. To her knowledge, Ethan had never believed in a divine being, which had made it all the more surprising when he became Amish.

  They were both quiet again. As much as Charlotte fought the urge to have a conversation about God, something was niggling at her. “Ryan, you’re a good guy. But don’t feel badly about what I’m doing. I was just teasing you. I’m the one embedding myself in a world of lies.”

  “Yeah, well . . . I probably should have talked you out of it.”

  “You wouldn’t have been able to.” She sighed. “Besides, I’ve probably already earned a spot in hell. I’m guessing there is still hope for you.” She grunted, only half kidding.

  “Charlotte, I don’t know why you would say that. I’ve never known you to be anything but good-hearted.”