“Schtopp! Waard e bissel.”
She heard the Deitsch words behind her but couldn’t turn to see who was speaking. Strong hands lifted her and she stared into the face of Benjamin Yoder, her Amish bishop’s recalcitrant nephew from Iowa. As she faced her rescuer, Caroline wasn’t sure if she should be grateful or even more frightened.
Rumor haunted Ben’s name. Hushed whispers claimed he had killed a man seven years earlier. That was why he’d moved here to Colorado. To escape his dark past. And though he was a member in good standing of the Gmay, her Amish community here in Riverton, she couldn’t trust him. Not ever.
“I have you. It’ll be all right now.” His deep voice sounded soft, sympathetic and soothing.
He spoke in Deitsch, the language of their people. And as he carried her across the street, Caroline felt absolutely safe in his arms. Then she reminded herself who he was and who she was—and she wanted away from him as fast as possible.
With her out of the road, Rand revved the engine of his truck and surged forward. The vehicle accelerated, disappearing around the corner with a squealing of brakes and a smattering of gravel.
Breathing hard, Caroline had no choice but to wrap her arms around Ben’s neck. He carried her as if she were light as a baby bird. Beneath her hands, she felt the bunching of his solid muscles and remembered all the stories that surrounded his name.
Violent! Killer!
He was everything Caroline loathed. She’d heard all the gossip. Standing at six feet four inches tall, Ben weighed around two hundred pounds, all of it muscle. He was large and strong and Bishop Yoder called him Big Ben, with good reason. Though everyone in their Amish community kept their distance, the men included Ben in their work projects because he had the strength and stamina of three men. But he never complained. In fact, he was inordinately quiet and kept mostly to himself. He’d become an asset to their Gmay, especially when they were building a new house or barn. But just like the drunk driver who had struck Caroline’s buggy and almost killed her, she believed Ben had a foul temper. And she wanted nothing to do with a man like him. No, nothing at all.
As Ben reached the sidewalk, she caught his open expression. He was ruggedly handsome, with a lean jaw and blunt, stubborn chin. His nose was slightly crooked, as if it had been broken before. Though she was almost as afraid of this man as she was of Rand Henbury, she saw nothing in Ben’s gaze but sympathy and concern.
“Please don’t tell the bishop about this. Please!” she whispered to him, fearing she might be deemed incapable and lose her teaching position at the Amish school.
Ben met her gaze, a sober expression on his face. And then he did something that caused her to catch her breath. He winked.
“As you wish. Don’t worry. It’ll be our little secret,” he said.
She stared at him, stunned from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Did he really mean it?
“Caroline!” Aunt Hannah called.
Too late! Aunt Hannah and Sarah Yoder, the bishop’s wife, came running out of the post office. Cliff Packer, the town’s Englisch postmaster, joined them. No doubt they’d all seen what had happened. There would be no way to keep it secret now.
“Geht es dir gut?” Sarah asked.
“Ja, I’m all right. There’s nothing to worry about,” Caroline reassured them all, but her voice wobbled slightly.
“What happened?” Aunt Hannah asked.
Caroline tapped Ben’s sturdy shoulder. “Please, put me down.”
He did so, setting her on a wooden bench. As he drew his large hands away, she was cognizant of his promise. Too many people had seen what had happened to keep it private, but she was impressed that Ben had been willing to try. And though she knew he was prone to violence, she wondered if he was a man of his word.
He stood back, not saying anything. His straw hat shaded his clean-shaven face, and she could no longer see his expression. He looped his thumbs through the black suspenders crisscrossing his blue chambray shirt, looking like the very tall, plain Amish man he was. And yet, Caroline sensed there was so much more to Ben Yoder than what she’d been told. Though her senses were on high alert, her curiosity demanded she know more about his past. To understand what was behind his quiet exterior. What had made him angry enough to kill another human being? But she wouldn’t ask. For one thing, it wasn’t her business. And for another, never again could she take chances with her life. She wanted away from Ben. And fast.
“Can we please go home now?” she asked her aunt.
Hannah picked up the two crutches, her face creased with a stern frown. “Of course. I told you it was too soon for you to go traipsing off around town on your own. You should have let me accompany you to the store. I don’t see how you’ll be able to teach school this year. You still need lots of help.”
The scolding stung. But Caroline knew her aunt meant well. Hannah was a kind woman and her words stemmed from fear, not cruelty. Over the past months of Caroline’s rehabilitation, Aunt Hannah had been there for her all the way, without a single murmur of complaint. And it was because of her aunt that she even had a teaching position here in Riverton at all. They’d both come from Ohio and had always been quite close.
But although Caroline laughed off her aunt’s concerns, she had her own misgivings. She still couldn’t walk very well and wondered how she could effectively teach the Amish children on her own. Back east, there were many children packed into each Amish parochial school, so they usually had at least two teachers. But that wasn’t the case here in Colorado where the Amish community was quite small. They only had one teacher and Caroline was it. No wonder the bishop had told her the day before that he was going to assign an assistant to help her. But she wasn’t happy at all when he informed her that her new assistant was going to be Ben Yoder.
“Don’t worry so much. The kinder will be there to help me. And I’m gaining in strength every day.” Caroline spoke with a confidence she didn’t completely feel. She hated the thought of relying on a man like Ben to chop firewood and clear snow from the paths. But she really had no choice. Not unless she wanted to defy the bishop and school board, which she would never do.
“But what if you fall in the classroom?” Aunt Hannah asked.
“Then I’ll pick myself up just like I do at home,” Caroline replied, omitting the fact that at home, she could crawl over to a wall or table to brace herself against as she got to her knees and then stood. She’d have to do the same at school. But that could be a problem during recess, when she was outside with no walls to offer support.
“I saw everything!” Cliff Packer exclaimed. “Rand threatened to run her over. He and his friends cause trouble for everyone in town. They shoplift and vandalize our stores and hassle our customers. I can call the police, if you like. This should be reported.”
“That won’t be necessary. We’re leaving town now. No harm was done.” Sarah Yoder spoke briskly, taking Aunt Hannah’s arm.
Caroline wasn’t surprised the bishop’s wife rejected Cliff’s offer. Her people shunned contention of any kind. As pacifists, they would never fight back, nor would they sue anyone in a court of law. It wasn’t their way. The last thing they wanted right now was to call the police.
“Rand and his friends zip around the county roads and terrorize the Amish in the area, too. The bishop should be told. Maybe he’ll decide it’s finally time to talk to the police about it.” Aunt Hannah spoke in Deitsch, so Cliff couldn’t understand her words.
“I don’t know what the police can do. You know Amos has spoken to the boy’s vadder before and he wouldn’t listen,” Sarah said.
“Ach, please don’t tell the bishop. Please!” Caroline begged, knowing they would never make a vow of silence the way Ben had.
“But Caroline, we have to tell him,” Sarah said.
“He doesn’t need to know,” she continued. “People fall all the time.
And it certainly doesn’t impact my ability to teach. As many times as I fall down, the gut Lord will give me the strength to get back up.”
But even as she said the words, Caroline knew Sarah would run right home and tell her husband everything that had transpired. By tomorrow morning everyone in her community would know about it, both Amish and Englisch.
Hopefully, the bishop and the other two school board members wouldn’t care. They knew what she’d been through this past year and how hard she’d worked to rehabilitate herself. She desperately wanted to keep her job. She needed to believe that she was worth something and could benefit her community. That she wasn’t just a burden to everyone around her. After all, she could never marry now. Not after what had happened to her.
She turned away and blinked back tears of grief, resolved not to give in to the discouragement. Out of her peripheral vision, she caught Ben’s steady gaze. He watched her quietly, as if he could see deep inside her heart. Surely, he had heard all the gossip about her, too. Including how she’d lost much more than just the use of her legs in that horrible accident. She’d also lost her ability to have children. And what Amish man would want her now? The Amish cherished large families. Children meant everything to them. Even if she could find a man to love her for who she was, she could never marry him. Not when she knew she could never give him the kids he would undoubtedly want.
Instead, she must be content with being a teacher. Over time, she would settle into a routine. She would work and live her entire life in this community, but she was determined to pay her own way. She’d almost lost her life and ability to walk. She couldn’t lose her career, too. Her job gave her a reason to get up every morning. To keep trying. That was all she needed.
She was determined to return to the classroom and love the children she taught as if they were her own. It would be enough to ease the ache in her heart. It must be! Because the alternative was to become an invalid and spend the rest of her life with bitterness and loneliness as her constant companions. And she was not willing to accept that. No way, no how.
* * *
“Ben, will you carry Caroline to our buggy, please? I fear she’s too worn out to walk there by herself now,” Aunt Hannah said in a polite tone.
Ben looked up, startled by the request. “Of course.”
Realizing Caroline was in no condition to walk on her own, he nodded and reached out to scoop her into his arms. As he did so, he caught the uncertain look in her wide eyes. The fear and dread.
Looking away, he carried her the short distance to the parking lot where an open-air cover and hitching posts had been erected by the town for the Amish to use. He tried to ignore the pounding in his heart. If their two aunts hadn’t witnessed what had happened, he would have kept his promise to Caroline. He would have kept the incident a secret to his dying day. But now it appeared that everyone in the Gmay would soon hear all about it. No doubt the Englischers in their community would, too.
“I’m so sorry about this.” Caroline spoke so softly that he almost didn’t hear.
Her apology hit him hard. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
And he meant it. Through no fault of her own, she needed his help. And he was happy to be of service. The bishop, his uncle, had spoken to him about her situation last night, just after he’d returned from informing Caroline that the school board had assigned Ben to tend to her and the needs of the school this year. From her sour expression, Ben figured she wasn’t happy to be saddled with him. But she had no choice.
Until she could walk and get along well on her own, Ben was to put aside his regular farm work with his uncle and focus entirely on Caroline and the school. The bishop and his sons would assume Ben’s chores for the time being, but that wasn’t the biggest problem here. Caroline was strong-willed and independent. No doubt she didn’t want him hanging around her all the time. But more than that, Ben sensed she was afraid of him. He could see it in her eyes every time she looked at him. Surely, she’d heard the gossip surrounding his name and thought he was a dangerous man. And she was dead right.
“Everything’s going to be okay.” He spoke just as softly, wishing he could believe his own words. But he knew what she must think of him.
Killer. Murderer. It’s what he thought of himself, too.
“I hope you’re right,” she said.
He looked away, not knowing what else to say. His parents had died when he was young. As an only child, he’d been taken in by one of his uncles in a small farming community in Iowa. By the time he was a teenager, he’d grown to a great height and had learned to work hard and love Gott. But more than anything else in the world, he wanted a familye of his own. A wife and children to shower his love upon. To the Amish, familye meant everything. But for Ben, it was even more personal. If he had a familye of his own, it would help make up for what he’d lost with his parents. Give him a sense of belonging. A woman and kids to spend the rest of his life with would be his dream come true. But in his heart, he knew it was futile.
He’d killed a man with his bare hands. No good Amish woman would ever marry him now.
He set Caroline in her buggy and stepped away. He saw the flutter of her lashes as she looked down. She made a pretense of tucking several strands of golden hair back inside her white prayer kapp before straightening her white apron and long, burgundy dress. She glanced up and he saw her true feelings emblazoned in her beautiful blue eyes. Distrust. Fear. Repulsion. They were all there, plain as the small, upturned nose on her face.
She didn’t speak but looked away. He gazed at her pretty profile for several moments, feeling mesmerized. Since the day he’d first seen her in church, he’d thought she was the most amazing woman he’d ever met. She had a smooth, creamy complexion any woman would envy and delicate eyebrows that arched perfectly over her eyes. But jealousy wasn’t part of the Amish faith. In fact, his people rejected Hochmut, the pride of men. And because of how demure she was, Ben doubted Caroline was even aware how lovely she was.
As she folded her hands in her lap, he got the feeling her movements were contrived so she could avoid speaking to him again. And he didn’t blame her one bit. With his reputation, he wouldn’t want to be friends with him, either.
“Danke, Ben. I’m so grateful you were here today.” Hannah broke into his thoughts.
He nodded, stepping back several paces. “It was my pleasure. I’m glad I could help out.”
Without a backward glance, Hannah hurried to the driver’s seat and took the leather lead lines into her practiced grip. She didn’t say another word as she slapped them against the horse’s back.
“Haw!” she called and the buggy jerked forward.
“You take care and travel safely.” Sarah waved as she called after her and Caroline.
Hannah gave a curt nod.
“Komm on. Let’s go heemet.” Sarah touched Ben’s elbow as she hurried toward their own horse and buggy tethered a short distance away.
“Ja, I’ll take you home.” He nodded his assent and followed, ensuring that all her packages were stowed safely in the back. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat.
As he drove them home, he couldn’t help thinking about the past. The legal system had ruled the killing as self-defense and he hadn’t faced any jail time. But that didn’t matter to Ben. Even though it happened seven years earlier, he still couldn’t forget. Couldn’t get the awful scene out of his heart and mind. He’d taken another human life, and it haunted him day and night.
“Just wait until your onkel Amos hears about this. I don’t know what he’ll say. I’m sure he’ll be upset. Rand Henbury has made it so none of us dare venture into town to do our shopping or even drive our kinder to school. We never know when that Englisch boy might come upon us and terrorize us with that awful truck of his.” Sarah sat beside him, staring out the windshield, shaking her head.
Yes, Uncle Amos would be mighty upset
by the news. Ben’s uncle was the bishop of the Amish Gmay here in Riverton and had a duty to protect his flock. He was also a kind man who’d agreed to take Ben into his household. He’d insisted that, if Ben relocated here to Colorado, he could start anew. But Ben had learned differently. Gossip traveled far and wide, and it had followed him here. Everyone in his Gmay knew what had happened to him back in Iowa, and they didn’t want anything to do with him, either.
The quick clopping of the horse’s hooves on the asphalt built an urgency inside Ben. What if Rand Henbury was still driving along the county road and came upon Caroline and her aunt as they made their way home? Rand might hassle them again and upset Caroline even worse.
“Haw!” Ben hurried his horse into a faster trot, hoping to catch up to them. He wanted to ensure they got home safely.
Within minutes he saw their black buggy just ahead. The fluorescent slow-moving-vehicle symbol on the back gleamed in the morning sunlight. It swayed back and forth as a reminder for automobiles to slow down, but many drivers ignored the caution. Some were busy texting or talking on their cell phones and ran right over the Amish. No wonder they had so many buggy accidents. Many drivers were too inattentive and in too big a hurry. The town had started putting up cautionary signs along the roads, but it didn’t seem to help much.
The bishop’s farm was only a mile past the turnoff to the Schwartz’s place. When the buggy Caroline was traveling in turned off the county road and headed toward their home, Ben breathed a sigh of relief. They were on the stretch of dirt that led directly to their farm. Rand wouldn’t bother them now. In just a few more minutes Ben would have his aunt Sarah home safe, too.
Falling for the Innkeeper Page 18