She turned her back on Peter, her heart pounding. “Come on Joseph.”
“Where are we going?” Joseph sounded exasperated.
“In there.”
“What is that place?”
“Rebekah, what are you...”
Without answering either one of them, she strode up the giant stone steps and into the double wood doors beneath the words Church of Our Lady of the Scapular of Mount Caramel.
A church service was going on, and all the people were standing when the three of them walked inside. Rebekah slid into a pew on the back row. Joseph and Peter followed.
Peter looked defeated as he looked down at his sister. His shoulders hung low and his bottom lip protruded, like a tot in a tantrum.
Oblivious to those around them and what they were doing, standing up, kneeling, sitting down, Rebekah clasped her hands together and began to pray in whispering tones. “God, you brought us safely this far. You showed my heart the truth and you’ve helped me in more ways than I can count on this trip. Not helped, blessed.”
Rebekah peeked at the boys. Both had their eyes shut fast and hands clasped before them too. The door in the back opened, urging Rebekah to peek over her shoulder. A man in a brown robe, with what looked to be a rope at the middle, shuffled outside.
Plain, Rebekah thought. Like us.
She turned back and continued her prayer. “You calmed my heart God, with the assurance that we would find Katie and that she would return with us and all would be well. I trust in your assurance, Father, but somehow know that our work here is not done yet. You brought us, and Katie, here for a reason. Help us do Your will, Father, and spread your love around this town, that so sorely needs it. In Jesus’s Name...”
Peter coughed. “And help us, Father, to leave this place better than we found it.”
“Amen,” the three of them said together.
The door to the church opened and closed again, but Rebekah didn’t bother to look back.
“There’s a lot of activity going on during their church service, with people coming and going,” she mused. “Including us, I guess.”
“Nobody really seems to mind,” Joseph observed. “Nobody even looked up.”
The three of them sat in reverent silence, staring at the wall in front of them. Before it, was a giant wooden cross with a life-sized man hanging there. A crown of thorns on his head, his long hair plastered to his bloodied face. Nails through his hands and feet held him there, and a gash in his side looked gruesomely real.
“Jesus Christ,” Peter whispered.
“He loved us that much,” Joseph said.
“He taught us how to love; we have to show that love to others,” Rebekah agreed. “It feels like we are so close, so close to Katie. Are you ready to go find her?”
“Let’s sit just a moment longer.” Peter sniffled, staring at the Lord. “Just a moment longer.”
***
When they walked out of the church and into the sunlight, Rebekah felt as though something inside her had healed. Something she didn’t know had been in need of healing. That made the feeling all the more special.
“This way, back toward the docks,” Peter said. “The old sailor said they usually get going about midday, so it won’t hurt to get there early.”
“That’s an odd clock,” Joseph mused. “Can you read it, Rebekah?”
“No.”
“I can,” Peter said. “Nine thirty in the morning.” He started walking the direction from which they’d come. “This way, I’m sure of it.”
Rebekah and Joseph started after him. She had to stretch her steps to keep up. “That church was really something.” Rebekah sucked in a breath.
“It was,” Joseph agreed. “A world away from our Amish church meetings back home.”
Rebekah craned her neck to get one more look at the church. “I wish we could have stayed another moment, or even longer—”
“Oomph!”
Rebekah stumbled away from the man she crashed into. She dropped her quilting bag and stumbled to pick it up. As she stood, she shielded her eyes from the sun. A man in front of her came into clear focus. “Excuse me—hey, I saw you a moment ago! In the church!”
A man stood before her in a brown robe, tied at the middle with a rope, just as plain as any Amish, though with a distinct air of poverty above the plainness. She smiled as though she expected him to recognize her too. “I’m Rebekah. Rebekah Stoll.”
“Good morning, Rebekah.” The man extended his hand. “I’m Father Plant.”
“That there is Joseph, my intended. And my brother Peter.”
Peter and Joseph stood behind her.
“Your accents are very distinct,” Father Plant said. “I’m hearing it a lot this morning.”
“How so?” Peter’s voice was hard in the morning light.
“I wonder, are you looking for a girl by the name of Katie?”
