The Reconciliation Read online

  UNSPOKEN WORDS

  “You thought you’d try to play matchmaker,” Atlee said. “I don’t need a matchmaker.”

  “You told me before you had changed and were ready to settle down, but you aren’t courting anyone.”

  “Yet.”

  “Do you mean you have someone in mind but just haven’t started courting yet?”

  He had someone in mind all right. “Could be.”

  “Atlee! You’ve been holding out on me. You say we’re freinden but you haven’t confided in me, and here I’m trying to help you.”

  Atlee threw back his head and laughed. “You’re pretty cute yourself when you get your feathers ruffled.”

  Becky impishly wrinkled her nose at him. “Who is she?”

  “Huh?”

  “This mystery girl you’re considering courting?”

  Now Atlee did snatch Becky’s hand. “I said I had someone in mind. I don’t know how she would feel about the whole idea.”

  “She doesn’t know you’re interested in her?”

  “I think deep down she knows. But she’s resisting or not ready or maybe even denying her feelings.” He squeezed her hand and shot her what he hoped was a meaningful look. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, hold her close, and tell her outright that she was the girl. He wanted to say he wanted to protect her, to help her, to love her and her boppli . . .

  Books by Susan Lantz Simpson

  THE PROMISE

  THE MENDING

  THE RECONCILIATION

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  The RECONCILIATION

  Susan Lantz Simpson

  ZEBRA BOOKS KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  UNSPOKEN WORDS

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Epilogue

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2019 by Susan Lantz Simpson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  BOUQUET Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-4664-6

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4665-3 (eBook)

  ISBN-10: 1-4201-4665-3 (eBook)

  For all the people

  who have walked with me

  on my faith journey.

  God bless you!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to my family and friends for your continuous love and support.

  Thank you to my daughters, Rachel and Holly, for believing in me and dreaming along with me.

  (Rachel, you patiently listened to my ideas and ramblings, and Holly, I couldn’t have done any of the tech work without your skills!)

  Thank you to my mother, who encouraged me from the time I was able to write. I know you are rejoicing in heaven.

  Thank you to Mennonite friends, Greta Martin and Ida Gehman, for all your information.

  Thank you to my wonderful agent, Julie Gwinn, for believing in me from the beginning and for all your tireless work.

  Thank you to John Scognamiglio, editor in chief, and the entire staff at Kensington Publishing for all your efforts in turning my dream into reality.

  Thank you most of all to God, giver of dreams and abilities and bestower of all blessings.

  Prologue

  “Hey, Isaac,” Atlee Stauffer called as he closed the door of the Clover Dale Dairy behind him. He took long strides to catch up with Isaac Hostetler. He and Isaac had completed their workday and headed out into a blustery January wind. Darkness would creep in early on this cloudy winter day, so both young men hurried to hitch up and get home to do their outside chores before daylight entirely vanished.

  “Jah?” Isaac slowed his pace a tad but didn’t stop. It seemed to Atlee that Isaac generally tried to steer clear of him. He probably felt embarrassed after the mess he’d made of things with Atlee’s sister, Malinda. It was pretty hard to blend into the background, though, in a small community and hard to avoid each other when they worked at the same place.

  “Are you going to the singing on Sunday? I hear the visitors from Oakland may postpone their trip home. There might be some new acquaintances to make.” Atlee gave Isaac’s arm a playful punch.

  Isaac pulled his jacket tighter around his neck as if trying to keep the brutal wind from flying down to numb his torso. He hadn’t been to singing in a long while. Atlee sincerely doubted this coming Sunday would be any different—even if there were some pretty girls in the load visiting from another community—but he thought he’d inquire anyway. Isaac gave a noncommittal shrug.

  “You aren’t still pining away for Becky, are you?”

  “Good ol’ Atlee. You can’t let a subject die a natural death,” Isaac muttered not quite under his breath.

  Atlee knew the fiasco with Becky had been ever so much worse than the failed relationship with Malinda, but it was time for Isaac to get over that and move on. That was Atlee’s humble opinion, anyway.

  “Nee.” Isaac rubbed a gloved hand across his eyes. “Hooking up with Becky was a mistake from the very beginning. I was too much of a dummchen to realize that.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You weren’t the only fellow to fall prey to Becky’s charms. Besides, we all make mistakes.”

  “Some of us make more than others. I was stupid enough to think she really cared. Was I ever wrong! I threw away anything Malinda and I had, but I guess that wasn’t right, either. Maybe I’ll never get it right.”

  “You will. That’s what rumspringa is for—to learn and find out what we want, ain’t so?”

  “I guess, but you haven’t fallen flat on your face twice.”

  Atlee chuc
kled. “Who knows what blunders I’ll make? Think about Sunday.” Atlee clapped Isaac on the back and hurried to hitch his own horse.

  * * *

  Atlee barely clucked to the horse to get him moving. The poor animal was as anxious as Atlee to get home and out of the cold. Atlee glanced at the heavy gray sky in front of him as they trotted away from the dairy. If it didn’t snow tonight, it was missing a gut chance. One thing you could always count on about Southern Maryland weather was that you couldn’t count on Southern Maryland weather. In a matter of a few short hours the weather could go from sunny to stormy. Some years they had snowfall after snowfall, and some years they didn’t even have a trace of snow.

  They’d had a mere dusting at Christmas this year, just enough snow to cover the grass and coat the tree limbs like cream cheese frosting on Mamm’s carrot cake. At mid-January, they weren’t out of the woods by any means. They still had plenty of time for snow. Some years, winter seemed to last until almost May.

  Atlee rubbed first one hand and then the other on his pant leg to create some warmth. He must have left his gloves at home that morning. He’d have to remember to search for them. Frostbite or cracked and bleeding fingers were no fun, that was for sure and for certain.

  Atlee’s stomach rumbled louder than the clip-clopping of the horse’s hooves. He hoped Mamm or Malinda had cooked a big pot of beef vegetable soup or chicken noodle soup. He could almost feel the hot broth sliding down his throat. Maybe his younger bruders, Ray and Roman, would have finished helping Daed with the chores by now.

  He still missed Sam. Older by two years, Sam had married Emma Swarey in November. He would probably be a daed before too long. Atlee’s only sister, Malinda, two years younger, already had a beau. She’d gotten over Isaac in record time. Now she and Sam’s best freind, Timothy Brenneman, were courting. That was all hush-hush, of course, as was the Amish way, but everyone expected Timothy and Malinda to end up married. That was probably a big part of the reason Atlee held no grudge against Isaac. If his little schweschder had been weeping and moping about, forgiving Isaac for hurting her would have been a lot harder.

  Maybe Atlee should heed the advice he had offered Isaac earlier. Maybe he should check out the visitors at Sunday’s singing. He hadn’t felt ready to settle down before, but those settling-down feelings had been stirring more and more of late.

  He shook the reins to get the horse moving a little faster. “Kumm on, Star. We’re almost home.” Star—what a name for this big, sleek beast. Too bad Daed had let Malinda name him. Even if he did have that tiny white star-shaped spot above his eyes, he deserved a more powerful name.

  Catching the lights of an approaching vehicle in his side mirror, he slowed Star and tried to scoot horse and buggy over as far as he could toward the edge of the country road that had no shoulder to drive on. Most Englischers who regularly traveled this road looked out for buggies and patiently waited to pass them. Every once in a while, though, someone unfamiliar with the area or someone in a big hurry made travel downright scary. Since he was able to see around the curve up ahead, he leaned out of the buggy to signal the driver that it was safe to pass him.

  Slowly the van drove up beside him. Before Atlee pulled his head back into the buggy, he returned the driver’s wave and locked eyes with the passenger in the back seat. Becky? Of course it was Becky. No one else had hair the color of honey dripping from a hot, flaky biscuit and eyes a brighter green than his own. Had she returned home to stay? He smiled and waved again, but she dropped her eyes and withdrew into the shadows of the van.

  “Brrr!” Atlee shivered as he closed up the buggy. He didn’t know what was frostier—the air or Becky Zook’s attitude. The girl in the van did not act like the flirty, flighty girl of a few months ago. He wondered what had happened to subdue that carefree spirit sort of akin to his own. Atlee shrugged and urged Star on again. No doubt, any news about Becky would trickle down the grapevine soon enough.

  Gut. It looked like his bruders were finishing up the chores. He should be able to get away with simply parking the buggy and caring for the horse.

  “Great timing!” Roman, his sixteen-year-old bruder, called as he exited the barn with thirteen-year-old Ray on his heels. “You managed to show up right when we’re finished.”

  Atlee shrugged. “It couldn’t be helped. I had to work a little later.”

  “Sure you did.” Ray tried to scowl but ended up grinning.

  Atlee thought Ray was the sibling most like himself. Both of them loved to tease and laugh. “I’ll have you know I did not stop off any place but raced right home.” Atlee feigned hurt at Ray’s remark. “Where’s Daed?”

  “Still in the barn. He told us to go on inside and wash up,” Ray replied. “I’ll beat you, Roman.”

  Atlee chuckled at his bruders’ playful shoving as they sped toward the house. He had half a notion to run, too. The wind’s bite had intensified, and with the increasing clouds, full darkness was almost upon them. Atlee finished up at the same time as his daed, so the two walked to the house together. “I’ve got to find my gloves.” Atlee blew on his hands.

  “I probably have an extra pair somewhere.”

  “Danki. I’ll search for mine and let you know.”

  They clomped up the back steps. Warmth and delicious smells enveloped Atlee the moment he crossed the threshold. “Smells like”—Atlee paused to sniff deeply—“beef stew?”

  Daed sniffed the air. “I believe you’re right.”

  “Great. I’m starving and freezing!”

  “Then we’d better hurry.”

  “Hey, my gloves!” Atlee lifted his heavy, dark gray gloves off the kitchen counter.

  “You must have dropped them in your haste this morning,” Malinda said. “I found them near the door. I even sewed up the little hole on the right thumb.”

  “Danki. What would I do without you? Tell me that’s beef stew I smell.”

  “It is.”

  “I knew it.” Atlee scooted past Malinda and took his place at the big oak table.

  After the silent prayer, a plate piled high with thick slices of golden corn bread was passed around. For a few moments only the clinking of stainless steel spoons against blue ceramic bowls and slurping sounds broke the silence. Then the chattering and laughing began. The Stauffer house was generally not a quiet one. Atlee kept his strange encounter with Becky to himself. What in the world had been going on in her life?

  * * *

  Shadows felt safe. Maryland felt safe. At least she hoped it would be safe. It had to be safer than New York had turned out to be. Rebecca leaned forward only enough to see black-and-white cows happily chewing their cuds in the wide open field. A windmill spun in the breeze at the next farm. Across the road a pickup truck and a sports car sat in an Englischer’s driveway. That’s the way it was in Southern Maryland. The Amish and Englisch lived peacefully side by side with fields of corn or soybeans or hay in between them. Nothing like what she had seen in the city. Had it been only a little more than six hours ago that she had woven her way among throngs of pedestrians trying to get to the bus station without being followed?

  Rebecca was beyond tired. Even her eyelashes and toenails were weary. She pulled back into the shadows again and leaned her head against the window, just like she had done on the bus. The vibration rocked her, and the van’s engine sang her a lullaby. She didn’t have much farther to go, but she was powerless to keep her heavy eyes from closing. Scenes from New York played out in her mind. Would she be forever tormented by her horrible experiences, her frightening memories, and finally, her mad dash to escape the city?

  Chapter One

  Rebecca Zook hunkered down on the wide, dark green bus seat. If she could make herself invisible, she surely would. How her life had become such a mess in such a short time was almost beyond her comprehension. Could she even begin to right all the wrongs and mend all the fences she’d most likely broken beyond repair?

  What was the saying—misery loves company? Not
true as far as Rebecca was concerned. If she could, she’d crawl under the big bus seat or throw a blanket over her head. She did not want to have to make polite conversation with anyone. She leaned her head against the ice-cold window and truly hoped no one plunked down on the seat beside her. She supposed she could always feign sleep, but closing her eyes brought all those horrible memories dancing and leaping to the forefront of her mind.

  Rebecca struggled to calm her racing heart and ragged breathing after her sprint to the bus. She wished the driver would start the engine so she could leave this too loud, too crowded, too scary city behind. Since she had been one of the first to board, the doors probably wouldn’t close any time soon. Would she spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder or waiting for hands to reach out from the shadows to drag her back to a life she wanted no part of?

  She had only wanted to see the city, to experience something besides caring for a home and a garden and animals. She had wanted to see what else was in this vast world the Lord Gott had created. She had ended up seeing and experiencing a whole lot more than she had bargained for.

  Rebecca shivered, and not just from the cold. The stiff wind had practically stolen her breath away on her jaunt from the café to the bus station. She had had to hold on to her hat with one hand to keep it from flying away while juggling her bag with the other. She must have made a comical sight, if anyone rushing about had even noticed her.

  * * *

  “Nee! Nee! Leave me alone!” She ran until her breath came in hiccups and gasps and her legs ached from the extreme effort they put forth. She couldn’t let those three horrible men catch her. They thought she belonged to them since Vinny’s death. She couldn’t stop. Her body screamed at her, but she had to keep running. Faster!