Unbreakable (23 page)

He shook his head. “She worships Jonathon. She talks to me.”

“I'm sorry. I don't understand.”

Ebbie fingered his hat, which was on the table next to him. “Sophie's parents are very neglectful. That isn't a secret. Everyone knows it. I've been visiting them. Trying to show them how much their daughter needs their attention.”

“That's wonderful, Ebbie. I had no idea.”

He smiled. “I'm an elder in the church, Hope. It's my job to support and counsel our members. It's really not that surprising, is it?”

I thought that over for a minute. “Yes, it is. A lot of folks in Kingdom are put off by the Wittenbauers. They're . . . well, odd to say the least.”

“So they don't deserve the love of God?”

I felt myself flush. “I didn't say that, Ebenezer Miller, and you know it.” I lowered my voice and glared at him. “It's just that sometimes people who are different are a little . . . I don't know . . . scary, I guess.” I pounded my fist lightly on the table. “I'm not saying this right. I sound prideful, and I'm not.”

His expression softened. “I know you're not prideful,
Hope. Believe me. God has given all of us different callings. Different gifts. I truly believe my calling is to love the unlovely.”

I laughed softly, my anger gone. “Well, the Wittenbauers are about as unlovely as they come. It was Dorcas who spread the rumor about you and Jonathon.”

He chuckled. “I should have known. Dorcas and Elmer know people don't like them. It makes them feel disconnected from everyone. I think that's why they act the way they do. They're just hungry for attention.”

“Maybe they need to be more concerned about their daughter than what their neighbors think,” I said pointedly.

“You're right. That's what we're working on, although we certainly haven't made as much progress as I'd like.”

I studied him for a moment. “Did you tell the other elders what Sophie did?”

“No, of course not. What Sophie told me was in confidence. Anything said to an elder during counseling is kept private. The only reason I told you was because you already knew. And because I trust you.”

I was stunned. “You . . . you trust me? After what I did to you?”

He grunted. “What did you do, Hope? You fell in love with someone else. It wasn't on purpose, yet you were willing to marry me anyway. You were determined to keep your word. You had no intention of hurting me.” He shrugged. “So yes, I trust you. Completely. Always have. Always will.” His dark brown eyes peered into mine. “You see, I know you, Hope. I know your heart.”

I didn't know what to say. His words gave me a sense
of release from the huge burden of guilt I'd been carrying around, yet at the same time, for some reason I couldn't understand, inside I felt miserable.

“Thank you,” I said finally. “I appreciate your faith in me, even though I'm not sure I deserve it. You're a very kind and gracious man.”

“Well, thank you, but it isn't kindness. I'm simply accepting the truth. You love Jonathon, and that's all that matters. If God has brought you and Jonathon together, it's not my place to interfere in His plan. I'm content to wait until God sends someone who will love me the same way.”

I nodded, wanting to say something else, yet I had no idea what it was. It was a confusing sensation to say the least. I reminded myself that I'd put this part of my life in God's hands, and I had no plan to break that commitment.

“Let's get back to the meeting, Ebbie,” I said. “What are we going to do? These men have broached our borders now. Pastor Mendenhall could have been killed.”

“All I know is that we can't become vigilantes,” he said, raising his voice a notch. “We spent the morning in prayer, asking God for wisdom. And we forgave the people who have come against us.”

“Is that it?”

He frowned at me. “No, but I think that's the most important part, don't you?”

As I looked at him, I noticed that his eyes seemed to have depths I'd never explored. “Ebbie, did you pray for protection?”

“Yes, for the entire town.”

“And do you believe God has heard your prayer?”

His mouth twitched just a little, and I wondered why.

“I believe what I read in His Holy Word. That He is our refuge, our shelter from the storm.”

“If we really believe that—”

“Why do we scurry around trying to take care of ourselves?”

I nodded. “Noah, Lizzie, and I talked about that after the fire. We pray for protection, and then we try to defend our own lives and possessions. As if we don't believe God will answer our prayers.”

His expression softened. “Hope, you've asked an honest question. One that some people never ask. And it might explain why I don't think we should be running around with guns.”

I raised my eyebrows, indicating he should continue.

“First of all, I believe in the Mennonite teaching of nonviolence. Jesus left us in this world to bring peace and reconciliation. How can we do that by inflicting pain or death on one another? Even when we are trying to protect those we love? Jesus didn't resist evil with violence.”

“Are you talking about His crucifixion?” I asked. “I have to agree with Jonathon on this point. Jesus was fulfilling His calling. He accepted the cross willingly. I don't believe we're called to suffer the kind of persecution we're experiencing now, nor do I believe it was God's will for Avery to die on the road to Kingdom.”

“I agree with you about Avery, but you must remember that the Lord told us we would suffer persecution. They persecuted Him, and they will persecute us. However, we must not allow that persecution to void the promises God has
given us. We must use our shield of faith to quench the fiery darts of the enemy. Persecution will come, Hope, but God hasn't left us helpless. I'm afraid too many of our brothers and sisters leave their shields down either through unbelief or by trying to substitute the plans of men for the supernatural promises of God.”

He frowned and drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “When I say Jesus didn't resist evil, I'm not referring to his sacrifice on the cross. I agree with you and Jonathon about that.” He took a deep breath and gazed at me intently. It was obvious he'd put a lot of thought into what he was getting ready to say. “Do you recall the story of Peter cutting off the ear of a servant when the soldiers came to arrest Jesus?”

“Yes. Jesus rebuked Peter and healed the servant's ear.”

Ebbie smiled. “Why?”

“Because it was His nature.”

“Exactly. Jesus didn't have to do that. The servant must have been manhandling Him or Peter wouldn't have gone up against the man. In essence, the servant was a bad man. Still, Jesus didn't react with anger. He reacted with compassion. It isn't wrong to resist evil, Hope. But it is wrong to resist evil with evil.”

“I've heard this over and over,” I said. “Pastor Mendenhall said the same thing at Avery's funeral. We're not supposed to resist violence with violence. But everyone seems to have a different opinion of what we
are
supposed to do.”

He thought for a moment. “Do you also remember the story in the fourth chapter of Luke, when Jesus went to Nazareth and taught in the synagogue?”

“I'm not sure.”

“Jesus' words stirred up anger among those who were listening to Him. The Bible says they were so upset they dragged him to the top of a hill and tried to throw Him off a cliff.” Ebbie had a look of wonder on His face.

“Somehow He passed right through them,” I said, remembering the passage he referred to.

He nodded.

“So what are you trying to say?”

He sighed. “I can't say I understand it all, Hope. But Jesus resisted the crowd's attempt to harm Him without resorting to violence. I believe He passed through the mob because He knew God's protection was something He could count on. To Him, it wasn't some pie-in-the-sky concept. It was real.

“We have a choice. Do we try to protect ourselves, or do we walk through the crowd because we believe God is actually with us?” He smiled. “Please trust me when I say that I'm not suggesting we act foolishly. We should be as wise as serpents and harmless as doves.”

“Which means?”

He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “Which means that we're asking everyone to stay off the main road for now, and if they have to travel, not to go alone. Staying together is imperative. Safety in numbers.”

“But no special patrols?”

He shook his head. “Jonathon informed us that he and Roger Carson would continue to guard our boundaries no matter what decision we made. We're not sanctioning it, but we understand that Jonathon's just trying to help. His heart's in the right place. He's a godly man who cares very much about this town.”

“I'm glad you're not mad at each other anymore.”

Ebbie chuckled. “I was never mad at him. Just concerned that carrying guns might cause trouble.”

“And it did,” I acknowledged.

“Yes, it did. And Jonathon agrees. No more guns on patrol.”

“I'm not sure Roger will go along with that. He doesn't see things quite the way we do.”

Ebbie shrugged. “Jonathon is going to talk to him about it. Unfortunately, when a door is already open, it can be tough to close it again.”

“Do you carry a rifle, Ebbie?” It had suddenly occurred to me that even though almost every man in town carried a hunting rifle from time to time, I'd never seen Ebbie with one.

“No. I hate guns, Hope.”

“Do you hunt?”

He sighed. “I'm sure you'll think even less of me now, but no, I don't. My father took me hunting when I was a boy. I pointed a rifle at a deer, but I couldn't pull the trigger. I just couldn't. So my father brought him down. I'll never forget watching that poor animal suffer and die.” He shook his head. “Ever since that day, I haven't liked guns. Even the sound of them.”

“So after that incident you never picked up another gun?”

He smiled. “Actually, I did once. Father was out in the fields one day, and my mother had an accident in the kitchen. She dropped a skillet of hot grease and it splashed on her, burning her rather severely. She was in such pain, she wouldn't let me leave her, but I needed my father to come and take her to the doctor in Washington. So I got out one of the rifles, took it
outside, and fired it into the air. Father came running. In the end, I found a useful purpose for a gun. Getting help when you need it.”

I studied him for a moment. Finally I said, “Just so you know, I don't think less of you for not carrying a rifle. And I don't blame you one bit for not liking to hunt. I hate it too. Frankly, I don't see how anyone can shoot an innocent animal and find enjoyment in it.”

Ebbie chuckled. “Yes, but you're a woman. It's okay for you to feel that way. Men who don't like to hunt? Not really acceptable in our community.”

“I don't care. I respect you even more now, Ebbie. I really do.”

His eyes widened with surprise. “Well, thank you. That means a lot to me.”

I nodded. “Ebbie, something is bothering me about last night. Did Jonathon explain how the man in the red truck got into town?”

“No, and we didn't ask him. I know he feels guilty about it, and he shouldn't. We never asked him to put himself or Roger in that position in the first place. It was something they took upon themselves.” Ebbie shook his head. “But I think that's why he so was insistent about going back out to patrol. He feels responsible for allowing that man into Kingdom and indirectly responsible for the fire at the church.”

“That's ridiculous. It's not his fault.”

Ebbie sighed. “I know that and you know that, but it might take a little longer to convince Jonathon. He seems to carry too much responsibility on his shoulders.”

I stared past him, out the front window. “Those people
came into our town, Ebbie. It was different when they were only out on the road. I feel so—”

“Violated?” he asked.

I nodded, trying to blink away the tears that came into my eyes.

“I know. I feel the same way. But . . .”

He stopped talking, and I was certain it was because of the look on my face. Sheriff Ford stood in the doorway, looking like he'd come to arrest the entire town. He scanned the room. All conversation came to an abrupt halt, and Ebbie cranked his chair around so he could clearly view the sheriff. I was glad to see that he was alone this time. Tom wasn't with him.

“Can we help you, Sheriff?” Ebbie asked, since no one else seemed to be willing to step up and confront the lawman.

“Fire chief called to tell me you people had a fire of suspicious origin. I gotta check it out. You all know who burned down your little church?”

“We assume it was the same person who killed Avery Menninger,” Ebbie said. “A red truck was spotted driving down Main Street last night. Looked a lot like the one that forced Miss Kauffman off the road the other day and confronted her and Noah Housler not far from the turnoff toward our town.”

“You got any proof of that?” The sheriff stared at Ebbie as if the question were a challenge. To his credit, Ebbie didn't flinch.

“Of course we have no proof,” he said evenly. “But someone set the church on fire, and it certainly wasn't anyone in Kingdom.”

Ford's eyebrows shot up. “You interview everyone in town, son? You gotta badge or somethin' I don't know about?”

“No, Sheriff. But why would one of us burn down our own church? That doesn't make much sense, does it?”

He glared at Ebbie. “You tryin' to tell me that nobody in this town has a beef with your religious leaders? You folks would be the first people in history to accomplish that.”

Ebbie took a deep breath before answering Ford. It was obvious the sheriff was trying to bait him. “We don't always agree, Sheriff. But we don't express our opinions through arson.”