“Why would they tear down a church?” Katie stopped rubbing. The icy feeling of fear returned with a fresh vengeance. “Do the English not believe that churches are God’s house?”
“I suppose so. But if New York City wants apartment buildings here, like they usually do on corner lots like these, God had better find a new place to live.”
Such talk is blasphemy. A deep kernel, planted years ago somewhere in her heart or maybe even in her soul, throbbed because of Nellie’s unashamed words. Katie’s heart thundered in her chest. “Nellie...”
Slowly, Katie forced herself to her feet. She suddenly felt very ridiculous and plucked the ornate hat from her head. That’s better already. “Come on, let’s go in and spend a moment in prayer before your worldwide journey.”
Nellie reached and took the hat from Katie’s hands, lest she disgrace it more than she obviously already had. She dusted and fluffed and spiffed the velvet hat and it’s long, plumy feather. “I’m not Catholic, Katie Knepp. And you certainly aren’t either.”
Katie turned and started to climb the stone stairs to the wooden double doors. “The ways of the English are so confusing, Nellie. Are all people not welcome in God’s house in the world of the English?”
“Well, I suppose so...but...”
Katie placed her hand on the handle. “Then let’s come into Our Father’s home and pray for safe journeys.”
Nellie clutched the boots tightly to her chest and glanced up at the clock again. “It’s really time to head to the ship, Katie.” The jovial note to her voice was noticeably absent. “So let’s go.”
Katie didn’t turn around. I may be running from Peter and from Gasthof Village. I may be running from the Amish. I may even be running from Rebekah. But I am most certainly and above all else not running from God. “I’ll catch up with you, Nellie.”
After an eternal silence, Nellie exhaled. “Fine. Head right down this street, the same direction we were going, until you hit the ocean. Surely even you can’t miss an entire ocean, right?”
Another stinging quip.
“Surely not.”
Something in the air softened. “Be there in an hour, Katie Knepp. At the docks, I mean. So we can catch the Augusta Victoria. Bound for London.” Nellie’s voice had softened too. “I am truly honored to have you with me on this trip.”
Katie’s mouth had formed into a hard line over the course of the night and into the morning, but it too softened. She gave a little wave and opened the heavy door. “And it is my honor to go with you. I’ll be there, God willing.”
“It’s impossible to get lost, Katie Knepp,” Nellie said again. “Just walk until you hit the water and I’ll be there.”
***
Katie crept into the giant church, quietly, like a mouse. Somewhere, people were singing—chanting, rather—and it echoed mysteriously off the stone walls. Something about the solemnity of the atmosphere gave her pause. God was here, just as real and just as present as He was in the Amish church meetinghouses in Gasthof Village. Katie recognized Him immediately. She stumbled into a pew and sucked in a breath.
Finally, for the first time since leaving Peter at the end of Rumspringa, she was able to take a breath, reflect, and collect her thoughts.
“Father.” Her voice cracked without warning. All of the emotion she’d hidden, packed down, put away, came bubbling out through that crack. Before she even prayed the prayer that she had bumbling around in her muddled mind, all of those emotions threatened to strangle her.
“Father, oh Father.” Peter’s face, innocent and gentle, filled her mind. The hopeful look he’d given her when she’d promised to meet him. The fear she’d seen in his eyes when he couldn’t find her, yet she watched, hiding in the shadows.
Like a coward.
Like a selfish coward.
Who thought only of herself.
And thought not of anyone else, or their feelings.
“Oh Father, I’m so, so sorry.” Tears dripped from her eyes and hung like an English diamond necklace in her fringe of lashes.
“Peter,” she mumbled. “Samuel Stoll, his sickness.” Her words came fast and garbled. She fell down onto her knees between the pews. “Rebekah, Joseph. My mother and my father. Annie.” She sucked in a long, whoop of air. “Father, help me. I don’t know what to do.”
“My child, what troubles your heart so?”
Katie gasped and opened her eyes. A man in simple garb sat before her. “I—I thought I was alone. I’m so sorry...”
“No need to be sorry Miss.” He spoke with a soft accent that Katie couldn’t place. “I’m Father Plant. All are welcome in God’s house.”
“I am so sorry, I have done so many people wrong. I don’t know what to do...” Before she could say more, she gave over to another fit of tears. When she lifted her head, Father Plant was there. Smiling a gentle smile.
He reminds me of Pa.
“You start with forgiveness, my child.”
“Who do I forgive?”
“Yourself.”
Katie balked. “Forgive myself, for all I’ve done? I cannot.” She ducked her head onto her hands and shook. A very real and eternal fear shook her to her core and she was powerless to stop it. She’d done too wrong. “I’m not deserving.”
“None of us are deserving Katie Knepp.”
She raised her face again. Fear turned to ice in her veins. When did I tell him my full name?
Father Plant continued. “That is the very reason Jesus came and died on the cross for us, is it not?”
Katie hiccupped and nodded.
