Lorie's Heart

Book 3: Wells Landing Romance

by Amy Lillard

Genres: Christian Romance; General Fiction; Christian Fiction

Synopsis

Lorie Kauffman is grief-stricken when her father passes away unexpectedly. But her heartache quickly turns to bewilderment when she discovers that he had been leading two lives-one of simplicity and hard work in Wells Landing, and one fraught with painful ordeals in Tulsa. As she starts digging into her family's past, Lorie finds that she's no longer certain where she belongs.



Lorie knows that if she leaves Wells Landing, she may never be able to return. But what if her destiny lies in the outside world-the world her father knew so well? Change is never easy, but with a bit of courage and the help of a handsome and kindhearted Englischer, she just may find the peace, acceptance, and love she's been longing for.

Contains mature themes.

Release date: August 1, 2015

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 352

Sample

Lorie Kauffman’s black walking shoes squeaked against the overly waxed tile floor as she made her way down the long corridor. One arm was wrapped around her stepmother, Maddie. Her mamm pulled her close, neither one of them ready for the task before them. In truth, Lorie wanted nothing more than to turn and run from the coroner’s office as fast as she could. As far as her feet would carry her.

The doctor walked in front of them, slower than she wanted, faster than she could take. He didn’t say a word as he led them into the cold, sterile room. It was so different than anything Lorie had ever seen. Stainless steel and buzzing lights.

Only the squeak of their shoes could be heard as he led them to a wall that appeared to be a large filing-type cabinet. It was a little like the one her father kept in his office at the restaurant, except this one took up the entire wall.

She randomly wondered how the doctor knew which drawer to pull out. But he did.

The drawer opened, the body inside covered with a plain white sheet.

Mamm squeezed Lorie’s hand so hard her fingers started to tingle. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched the doctor fold back the sheet to reveal the lifeless face of her father.

With a gasp, Mamm turned away, only briefly looking at the man she had been married to for as long as Lorie could remember. But Lorie herself couldn’t tear her gaze away. Her eyes were transfixed, as if by staring at him long enough she could somehow bring him back to life. She took in his wavy brown hair, normally so carefree, now pushed unnaturally back from his face. His beard matched in color, with only a few streaks of gray in the chest-length strands. Gone was the sweet smile that graced his lips. His eyes, normally the color of the afternoon sky, were closed, still behind their lids.

A cut slashed across his temple, the skin surrounding it dark. It was the only mark to testify that he’d been in an accident. A freak injury, they called it, that caused his brain to die when his body was still able to function. One tiny cut that ended his life.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the coroner said. Lorie wondered how he did it. How he worked day in and day out with crying, grieving families.

Beside her, Lorie heard Mamm stifle a sob. Typical Amish, Mamm tried to hide her feelings. The only emotion she readily shared was her displeasure. Lorie pushed away the uncharitable thought. She would pray about it later, but for now all she could do was ignore the twinge in her gut and focus on what remained of her father.

“Jah,” Mamm finally said. “That is my husband.”

From the corner of her eye Lorie saw the man nod, then he started to pull the sheet back over her father’s face.

Her hand flew up of its own accord to stop him. She wasn’t ready yet. She wasn’t ready to say good-bye, to have him covered and locked away from her forever.

A tickle twinged at her cheeks, and she wiped at it with her fingers, surprised to find them damp with tears.

“Lorie?” Mamm asked.

“Not yet,” Lorie whispered in return. “Just a little while longer.” She had to look all she could. What if she forgot his face as time passed? That happened with her own mamm. Her mother had died and over the years Lorie had forgotten her face. Since photographs were against the Ordnung, there were none to remind her. She couldn’t let that happen to her dat as well.

“Lorie.” Mamm tugged on her hand, but Lorie resisted. She needed to get one last look at him to hold in her heart. The strong slant of his jaw, the straight line of his nose, the mark just above his heart.

She blinked. It couldn’t be. It went against everything the Ordnung stood for, the Bible, and all that God wanted for his people. Yet there it was, penned just above where his heart once beat. Another heart. This one had wings on each side and a name in such intricate letters she almost couldn’t make it out. May not have been able to had the name not been as familiar to her as her own. Belinda.

That was her mother’s name. Her mother who had died so long ago.

“Kumm.” Mamm tugged on her hand, pulling Lorie away from her father as the doctor covered him again. But it didn’t change anything. The mark was still there. The heart, the wings, the name.

Her father had a tattoo.

In the days that followed Lorie didn’t have much time to think about the tattoo, yet it was never far from her thoughts. There were preparations to be made. A coffin to be bought, a funeral to be planned. A father and husband to be laid to rest. A life to go on living.

The police had given them a box of things that had been found in her father’s car. How did her father have a car? He was Amish!

When they arrived back in Wells Landing, Mamm had taken the box to the storage room above the restaurant. She taped the box shut and dusted her hands as if a dirty job had been completed. Lorie itched to climb the stairs and go through the box. What other secrets were hiding there?

She scanned the dining area of the restaurant. They had closed today in honor of her father. Maddie had wanted everyone to gather there to pay their last respects, eat, and otherwise spend time talking about Henry Kauffman. More than half the town had shown up to say good-bye to her father. He was nothing if not loved and admired by his community.

But there were too many people. More than Lorie could easily handle. Of course some of the mourners were Englischers that her father had worked with over the years. They didn’t know a person needed to be invited to the funeral and had just shown up instead. Thankfully there was enough food to go around. But not enough room in the restaurant for the crowd and her own grief.

She glanced over to where her stepmother sat, tissue in hand as she talked with Helen Ebersol, the bishop’s wife. The few remaining people at Kauffman’s were starting to clean up the mess left behind from the wake. Paper cups and plates were tossed in the trash. Empty aluminum casserole pans disposed of as well. So much needed to be done that Lorie was overwhelmed with the prospect of doing anything at all.

“Lorie?” Emily Riehl grabbed Lorie’s hand and squeezed.

Lorie shot her a watery smile and returned the reassuring clasp. She and Emily had been friends for as long as Lorie could remember, though so much had changed over the last couple of years. Their other close friend, Caroline Fitch, just had a new baby, a sweet baby boy they named Hollis after Caroline’s father. Emily herself had just last fall married Elam Riehl. Now this.

“You want to talk about it?” Emily asked.

She shook her head. There wasn’t anything left to talk about.

Emily glanced over to where Lorie’s mamm talked with her own mother. “Not your vatter,” she whispered. “But whatever else is bothering you.”

Lorie attempted another smile. “Why would something else be bothering me?”

“You and I have been friends ever since first grade. Do you honestly believe that I cannot tell when something is on your mind?”

Lorie thought about protesting again, but Emily was tenacious as a bulldog. If she felt something needed to be done, she held on until it was complete. Lorie had no cause to believe that this would be any different.

She cast another glance back toward her stepmother and hooked her arm through Emily’s. “Can you walk to the park with me?” She needed some fresh air, a new perspective, her father back.

“Jah. Of course.”

Lorie didn’t bother to tell Mamm where she was going. She just pushed out of the restaurant with Emily close behind.

“Where’s Elam?” Lorie asked once they were out on the sidewalk. The fresh air didn’t help. She still felt as bereft as she had before. This time maybe more so since the bright, cheery sun seemed to mock her very being.

“I sent him home, so we could talk. I had a feeling . . .”

Lorie nodded as they crossed the street to sit in the park directly across from Esther’s bakery. Had it only been two years ago since she had sat here with her friends enjoying the beautiful spring day when Andrew Fitch pulled up on his uncle’s tractor? It seemed like yesterday and forever ago at the same time.

They sat on the swings, pushing themselves with their feet. The wind stirred the untied strings on her prayer kapp. Lorie pushed them over her shoulders wishing for the umpteenth time that she could just cut them off. But that was a sign of rebellion, and Emily’s father, Bishop Cephas Ebersol, would never allow that in his district. The last thing she needed right now was trouble with the bishop. Not after . . .

“My father has . . . had a tattoo.” Would she ever stop referring to him in present tense?

“He what?” To Emily’s credit she didn’t raise her voice, didn’t drop her chin in surprise or any of the other shocked reactions that Lorie had been expecting.

“I saw it when we went to the coroner’s office to, uh, you know.”

Emily nodded. “Are you sure?”

There was nothing else it could be. “I’m sure.”

They sat there in the warm summer sun, not speaking, just being.

Then Emily said, “We all make mistakes, Lorie.”

“I know,” she whispered in return.

“Do you want me to talk to my dat? Maybe he can give you some peace about the matter.”

But it wasn’t peace she needed. Answers, that was what she wanted. “I’m not worried about his soul, if that’s what you mean.” And most people would be.

“Maybe he did this on his rumspringa.”

That had been Lorie’s first thought, too. But she had heard the story of how her parents had met and fallen in love. Though her father had never come right out and said that it was after he joined the church, she knew he had been well past his run-around years.

“It’s a heart,” she said. “With an angel’s wings. And my mother’s name.”

“He must have loved her very much,” Emily said.

Lorie nodded. Her father had never said as much to her, but any time she asked him a question about her mother, his eyes would light up, Mamm’s frown would grow a little deeper, and things around the Kauffman household would become tense. “I know he did.” She stared off into the distance. “I don’t think Maddie ever forgave him for that.”

“For loving your mamm?” Emily asked.

“I know it sounds dumb, but it’s just a feeling, you know?”

“Sometimes there is only one love in a lifetime,” Emily said.

Lorie smiled at her friend. If anyone knew about the unpredictability of love, it was Emily Riehl. She had loved Luke Lambright her entire life, only to realize the love wasn’t real. Luke left the Amish to join the fast-paced world of stockcar racing while Emily had stayed behind in Wells Landing and fallen truly in love with Elam Riehl. “Maybe,” she said. “But—”

“But what?” Emily asked.

“I think he got the tattoo after my mamm died. He would have been around thirty years old.”

“What does that matter truly?” Emily shrugged. “That is between him and God, don’t you think?”

“Jah,” Lorie said, pleating her fingers in the material of her apron. She was already tired of wearing black. “But what if there’s more to it than that?”

A frown pulled at Emily’s brow. “What do you mean?”

“I feel like there’s so much of his life that I didn’t know about.” More than the cook who ran a tight kitchen, who made regular trips through the restaurant greeting his guests and checking on their meals. More than the man who loved his family and always had a smile on his face no matter what the day handed him.

“Of course there is,” Emily exclaimed. “Are you sure you just haven’t realized that your father was a person aside from being your father?”

Lorie shook her head. “It’s more than that. I don’t know how I know, but—”

Emily took Lorie’s hand into her own, stopping the gentle sway of their swings. “Listen to me,” she started, her voice soft, but threaded with steel. “Give yourself time to grieve before you do anything.”

“I’m fine,” she lied. What else could she say?

“Lorie.” At Emily’s stern tone, Lorie turned to face her friend. “You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

“I just want to know,” she whispered. “How could Maddie have not seen it?” She had called her Mamm for the last twenty years, but now there was a chasm between them, bigger than before. She and her stepmother had never been very close, but this tore the fragile trust apart.

Emily sighed. “Okay,” she finally said. “She had to know it was there.”

“Then they were both keeping secrets.” Lorie studied her fingernails. She couldn’t bring herself to tell her friend the rest, about the box of his possessions hidden away in the storeroom. About the car the police found and claimed belonged to her father. “Why?”

“I wish I had an answer for you.”

The birds in the trees chirped to one another even though they were in the middle of town. From the street came the clop of horse hooves against the pavement, the purr of the car engines as they drove by. That was Wells Landing, a perfect blend of city and country, of Amish and Englisch. One of the reasons she loved it so much.

But everything seemed a little dim today, dull, as if the sparkle had gone out of the world. Was that just the pain of losing her father? Or did it have more to do with the secrets he kept?

“Promise me,” Emily said. “Promise me you won’t do anything for a while. Give yourself a chance to heal before you start digging around. There may be truths that you don’t want to know.”

That was exactly what she was afraid of, but now that she knew what she did, how could she ever go back?

“Can I talk to you for a bit?” Lorie slid into the booth opposite her mamm. It had been nearly a week since the funeral. A week of sleepless nights and exhausting days of learning to get along without her father.

She reached for the stack of napkins. In the restaurant business, there was no such thing as downtime. Something always needed to be done. Lorie started rolling the flatware in the paper napkins like she had been taught when she was eight years old.

“Jah, of course,” Mamm said. Her mouth turned up at the corners, but still managed to look more like a frown than a smile.

Lorie stopped rolling silverware and instead started to tear little pieces from the napkin in her hands. “I think we should talk about the tattoo.”

Mamm shook her head. “I don’t.”

“So you did know it was there.” A small part of her had hoped that by some miracle, her mamm didn’t know about the mark on her father’s chest.

Maddie shot her a look, but continued to roll the silverware.

“Did you ever ask him about it?”

Mamm took a deep breath, Lorie was sure to remind her that she had said she didn’t want to talk about the tattoo. Instead she slowly released it. “Jah. He told me he got it during his rumspringa.”

Lorie shook her head before Maddie even finished. “That’s impossible, and you and I both know it. He owned a car, Mamm. A car.”

Maddie slammed the last rolled bundle of flatware into the large gray tub they used for storage. Her lips were pressed even tighter than usual, her eyes shooting sparks like the firecrackers on July Fourth. “He got the tattoo on his rumspringa, and that’s all there is to say about it.” Maddie’s words held such conviction Lorie wondered if she was trying to convince Lorie or herself.

“But—”

Maddie stood, towering over Lorie, a frowning menace in head-to-toe black. “We will not speak of this again.” She picked up the tray of utensils and marched toward the waitress station.

Lorie watched her go, feeling defeated and worn. So many unanswered questions floated around in her head. So many secrets kept for so many years.

“What did you say to Mamm?” Melanie slid into the booth opposite Lorie, her blue eyes searching.

“Nothing. It’s just hard right now.” She did her best to smile at her sister. In all actuality Melanie Kauffman was her half sister, though Lorie had never felt that way before. What was happening to her?

Grief, Emily would say. She was probably right.

“I know,” Melanie said with a nod. “It’s hard when I miss him so.”

Lorie blinked back the tears welling in her eyes and squeezed Melanie’s hand. Their father’s death had been hard on them all. Mamm wanted Melanie to postpone her wedding since she was now in mourning. Melanie was heartbroken over the decision, but Lorie knew she wouldn’t go against their mudder’s wishes.

She looked over to where her half sister Cora Ann brewed fresh tea for the afternoon crowd. At twelve, Cora Ann was still in school, working on the weekends and every time they needed an extra hand. Sadie was in the kitchen, most likely preparing food for the supper crowd. She was actually Lorie’s stepsister, but since she had been an infant when Maddie married Dat, he was the only father she had ever known. Six-year-old Daniel sat at the table by the kitchen coloring a picture. His tongue was stuck in the corner of his mouth, his eyes nearly crossed behind his glasses as he concentrated on his work. He was so special, their Daniel. Of all of them, Lorie knew he was the most confused. He didn’t understand why his vatter was never coming back.

They had all been devastated by his untimely death. So why was she the only one with all these questions?

She stood and smoothed her hands down her black dress. She felt antsy, like her skin was too small and itchy from the inside out.

“Where are you going?” Melanie asked.

Lorie shrugged, another lie she would have to pray about. “Nowhere.”

“Mamm won’t like it if you’re not here when the dinner crowd starts coming in.”

She didn’t like a lot of things too, Lorie thought. Then she pushed the hateful thought away. Grief, that was all it was. “I’ll be back before then. I just need to . . .”

Her legs were stiff, and her heart pounding as she walked away.

She just needed to get some answers. She needed peace, understanding. As if her father’s death wasn’t enough, there was a tattoo and a car. And a stepmother who wanted to ignore it all.

The bell on the door dinged behind her as she stepped out into the overcast day. She could almost smell the rain in the air and hoped the clouds didn’t produce a storm. They bothered Daniel like nothing else. He had been through so much lately she didn’t know if he could handle any more right now.

Slowly she walked around the building as if she was out for nothing more than a casual stroll. Once she was out of sight to anyone looking out the window at Kauffman’s, she removed the key she’d tucked into the waistband of her apron. Sneaking around was not the best way to handle this, but she didn’t have many options.

She eased up the staircase to the storeroom above the restaurant. It held a little of everything from extra to-go lids and spare chairs to the paintings she hid there where no one could find them.

And the box of things given to Maddie by the police.

Her mamm might want to push everything aside and forget it, but Lorie couldn’t. The box was sitting just inside the door, as if Mamm didn’t want to spend any more time on it than was necessary.

Lorie looked at the box. She took a deep breath. She knelt on the floor. But she didn’t touch it.

What if what she found in there changed everything? Emily was right: she couldn’t un-see whatever the box contained. Yet she couldn’t un-see her father lying there in the morgue.

Her hands were sweaty, and she wiped them down the front of her dress skirt.

She had to know. No matter how bad she felt about disobeying her mamm and opening the box, she had to know.

Her hands trembled as she reached for the length of tape sealing the box shut tight. She pulled on it, wincing. A little of the cardboard tore as she stripped it away. There was no going back.

She folded down the flaps, and tears sprang to her eyes. All that was left of her father was in this box. All the stuff collected by the police. It seemed pathetic, such meager remains from a full and happy life.

His black felt hat lay on top. She lifted it out and set it in her lap, her fingers trailing around the brim.

She hadn’t asked what had happened to his clothing. She supposed they had removed it at the hospital. She wasn’t sure she wanted that anyway.

She wasn’t sure she wanted the box in front of her.

She moved the hat to one side and took out a set of keys she had never seen. The ring held five keys, none of them marked. Perhaps they went to the restaurant. At least that was what she wanted to believe, even though in her heart she knew it was more than that.

A denim vest was the next thing she pulled out. It was so unlike anything her father ever wore, but when she held it close to her face, it smelled of him. The soap he used and the tangy scent of the restaurant.

In the very bottom of the box was a leather wallet.

Her heart pounded in her throat as she removed it. It wasn’t the one he usually carried, the one she had seen too many times to count over the years.

Somehow she knew this was it. As much as she wanted to put it back inside the box, tape the thing up, and pretend it didn’t exist, something inside her could not let it go.

She opened the wallet, and her gaze fell upon an Englisch driver’s license. Her father’s face smiled back at her from the tiny picture. There was no mistaking it was him. But the name . . .

Henry Mathis.

Her father’s name wasn’t Henry Mathis. His name was Henry Kauffman.

Yet it was his picture.

She ran her fingers across the plastic holder. The birthday was right: June sixteenth. And his eye and hair color. He was an organ donor, though she didn’t even know what that meant.

The address was in Tulsa, not Wells Landing. How could this be right?

She pinched the bridge of her nose where a headache was starting to throb. How could this be?

But there it was, right in her hands. No matter how she looked at it, only one conclusion came to mind. Her father had been living a double life.

“Jonah,” Lorie started, then stopped to take a breath and gather her courage before continuing, “Can I talk to you about something?”

He turned from hitching up his horse and buggy and gave her a long, steady look. “What’s wrong, Lorie?”

That was Jonah, always aware and concerned about those around him. It was one of the reasons why she loved him. But she hadn’t told anyone about the stuff she’d found in the storeroom in the week since she had snuck up there and opened the box. Not even to her mamm who knew what was inside. Or did she? Mamm could have simply put the box away, unconcerned with the secrets it held. She certainly wasn’t interested in discussing Lorie’s father’s tattoo.

“You’ve had something on your mind for days now,” Jonah said.

That was the truth.

“I just—” She just what? Had begun to doubt everything she knew to be good and true? Had started wondering what other secrets her father had kept from her? Worried now that her entire life was a lie? “I found out some things about my father. Things I never imagined could be true.”

Jonah shook his head. “We don’t speak of the dead, Lorie.” He turned back toward his task as if their talk was over. But Lorie had so many unanswered questions, so many thoughts in her head. She had to get them out or she might go crazy. “He had a tattoo, Jonah.” She spoke the words quietly, but they seemed to echo between them.

He stopped again. “Like an Englisch tattoo?”

“There certainly aren’t any Amish ones.”

Jonah shook his head. “You’ve been through so much lately. I think maybe you’re overreacting. He could have done something like that on his rumspringa.”

“Nay. He got this long after he joined the church, after he and mamm were married.”

Jonah dropped all pretense of hitching the horses and grabbed her hand in his own. “Kumm, let’s sit down and talk this through.” He led her over to the porch and the rockers that waited there. He let go of her only long enough to settle himself next to her. Then he scooped it up again touching her fingers one by one in that special way of his. The familiarity was soothing.

Lorie closed her eyes, basking in the attention, then she opened them again.

“I know how close you and your father were, and I’ve been trying to give you time, but . . . it seems you have more on your mind than I imagined.”

She nodded as tears spilled down her cheeks. As if losing her father wasn’t bad enough. All these secrets, it was like losing him all over again. “The police gave Mamm a box of Dat’s things.”

“Jah,” Jonah said by way of encouragement.

She went on to describe the items in the box. “And he had an Englisch driver’s license. But the name on it was different. It wasn’t Kauffman. He lied to me.”

“You don’t know that. Kauffman could be his real name and the other the fake one.”

She hadn’t thought of it that way. So many questions and no answers in s. . .