Page 23 of Unforgiven

“I would, if I understood why you are so distant from your son.”

“You know why. We love Seth, but he’s not Amish and likely never will be. You know. It’s hard to find the right balance for our new relationship.”

That statement said everything, Melonie reckoned. Her parents were giving the community a say in how they treated their son. “I’m surprised you find it difficult. You and Daed seem to accept his money without a problem.”

Her mother’s expression pinched. “That is enough, Melonie.”

“Mamm, you know I love you and Daed, but I love Seth too. He is such a good man and he cares about all of us. I want you to accept that.”

“I love him too. But a lot of our relationships are out of our control, Daughter. He was never baptized and has strayed too far from our beliefs.”

“He is still my brother and your son. I think you should be more accepting of him and his choices.”

Mamm’s face paled. “It’s not as easy as you make it sound, Melonie.”

“Mother, you don’t really believe that practically ignoring Seth is right, do you?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s our way.”

Melonie heard the tremble in her voice. Even though her mother was saying the words, she clearly didn’t believe them. And although it was tempting to argue with Mamm about that, she didn’t. She needed to concentrate on herself first. “Fine.” She bent down, straightened the lace on her boot, and then picked up her shawl and headed toward the door. “I’m leaving. I’ll be back in a while.”

“It might rain. Hurry now, and come home as soon as you do the shopping.”

It was half past three. They wouldn’t eat until six or half past the hour. Not until her chores were done for the day. “I’m going to stop by the library or to see Jo.”

“One or the other?”

“Jah, or both. Jo might want to go to the library with me.” The lies were coming far too quickly.

“But the rain—”

“Won’t make me melt. I’ll be fine, Mamm.” As long as she left the haus and got some space, she would. She needed to get out or before long she wouldn’t want to come back.

As if her mother could read her mind, she stood up a little bit straighter. “I’ll see you in a while, then. Don’t tarry too long.”

“I won’t.” She could practically feel the word LIAR being etched on her forehead.

Wrapping the shawl around her shoulders, Melonie escaped at last.

Each step brought her closer to freedom. Maybe not literally, but in her mind. They lived in a small haus on the edge of the Amish community. It was one of the closest to Marion, which was helpful for her father, since he worked for the Jensens. The Englishers were good people, if not very smart when it came to either farming or raising horses. However, they insisted on trying to do a bit of both—which was why they’d hired her father soon after Seth was sentenced to prison and her mother had hung her head in shame.

God had known what he was doing, though, because the job suited her father like a well-worn glove. To everyone’s surprise, Wayne Zimmerman had a wealth of patience for Carter and Emory Jensen. He liked their horses, and liked how Carter enjoyed learning from him but lost interest after a few hours, so her daed got to spend the rest of his days either tending to the large garden or exercising the horses and whatever livestock Carter had at the moment.

Melonie knew Daed liked coming home afterward with cash in his pocket and no worries about how to pay the bills for the five horses, three lambs, and all the equipment for the garden. Though they still counted on Seth to pay for things like food.

Pushing away all the thoughts about money and how it came to be in her possession, she darted across a vacant field, sidestepping a pile of old tires nestled in weeds, turned right near an abandoned single-wide trailer, and then at last came to an abandoned barn.

To be fair, calling it a barn was a bit of a stretch. It was about the size of a car, surrounded by weeds, and had a number of boards missing from the siding.

It was the perfect place to meet in secret.

“I’m here,” she called out.

Everything remained still.

Her heart beat faster as she listened for a sign that she wasn’t alone.

“Finally,” Lott whispered.

---