I turned my head to look into his face.
“And you have me.”
After a few seconds, he let go of my hand, switched on the wipers, and shifted the pickup into drive. The sensation of his touch stayed with me.
By the time we drove into Appleseed Creek, the sky was starting to lighten, and the heavy rain transformed into a fine mist. Tree limbs were down around the town, and a park bench on the square overturned. All minor damage when it could have been so much worse.
In bare feet, Becky ran to the truck to meet us. “Timothy! Chloe! I was so worried!” I climbed out of the pickup, and the teenager threw her arms around me. “I tried to call your cell phone, but it went right to voicemail.”
I hugged her back. Timothy was right. I had Becky too.
Becky threw her arms around her brother next.
He hugged her back. “I’d better get going. Both Mabel and I need a bath.” He caught my eye. “Chloe, remember what I said.”
As if I could forget.
I removed my mud-soaked sneakers and left them on the front porch. I didn’t have much hope for them.
“Becky, can you bring me a towel? I don’t want to track all over the house.”
Inside the door, I stripped down to my underwear and wrapped the towel around my body. “There, I feel better already. Where were you during the storm? Were you already home?”
She nodded. “Scotch closed the greenhouse at two because he said a storm was on the way. He and Cookie dropped me off here around two thirty. I thought he was crazy because it was fine until six, and then the storm broke loose.”
“How did you know there was a tornado?”
“The tornado sirens went off. I took Gigabyte and went down into the basement.” She shivered. “If you think the upstairs of the house is bad, don’t go down in the basement. It’s a hundred times worse.”
Why am I not surprised?
I let my gaze wander around the room. “Where’s Gig?”
“Hiding. He was terrified.” She showed me an inch-long scratch on her arm.
“Ouch. Are you okay?”
She shrugged. “He didn’t mean it.”
“Still, you should put something on that.”
She wiggled her fingers sticking out of the hot pink cast. “I’m worried about my family. I tried to call the shed phone, but a voice said the line was disconnected. What if that tornado hit the farm?”
Through the window, the sky was clear and blue. At only eight o’clock, the sun hadn’t yet set.
“I won’t be able to sleep until I know they are okay. I should have asked Timothy to take me there before he left.” She picked up the cordless phone. “I’ll call him and ask him to take us.”
“No.” I wasn’t ready to see Timothy again so soon. I needed to sort out what I thought about our conversation in the pickup. Did he care about me? Am I reading too much into it? “Timothy must be exhausted from driving to Columbus and back. Let me take a quick shower and change. We can take my car. I’m sure everyone is fine, but I know we will both feel better when we are absolutely certain.”
Chapter Forty-Three
As we drove to the Troyer farm, the countryside glistened in the setting sun. We turned onto the road to the farm, but within a few yards of the driveway, could go no farther. An enormous pine tree lay across the lane. I stopped the Prizm, the long branches scratching the hood of the car. I stared at the scene. “Wow.”
“The tornado passed through here,” Becky whispered. She jumped out of the car and ran through the wet grass and disappeared around the base of the tree.
“Becky!”
She didn’t even pause. I jumped out of the car and jogged after her. As I rounded the tree, I saw the Troyer house unharmed by the storm. The only other sign that bad weather had passed through was an overturned bench, the one I sat on with Grandfather Zook a few days earlier.
Becky froze in front of the house. Her chest heaved up and down.
The screen door opened, slamming against the house. Mr. Troyer stomped outside. Becky stepped toward him, but pulled up short. In three strides her father stood in front of her and pulled his eldest daughter into an embrace, the deacon’s warning unheeded. She buried her face in his shoulder and cried as any little girl who needed her father would.
Naomi, Ruth, and Thomas ran from the house and wrapped their small arms around their sister and father. Even Naomi’s faceless doll was squashed in the embrace. Grandfather Zook followed them at a much slower pace, the old man grinning from ear to ear. Mrs. Troyer stood in the doorway, watching her husband and Becky holding each other, a hand to her mouth.
Grandfather Zook hobbled in my direction. “Timothy is okay too,” I said. “Becky and I saw him after the tornado.” I decided not to mention the trip to Columbus or about my being trapped in a drainage ditch with his grandson and Mabel. Grandfather Zook may be more lax than his brethren, but he was still Amish.
“Gut.” The old man’s eyes twinkled as if he knew there was more to the story. He leaned heavily on his crutches and seemed more stooped over than usual. His crutches left deep indentations in the saturated earth. He smiled. “Don’t give me that worried look. I’ll be fine. The change in weather always affects my old bones, and crawling in and out of the root cellar to avoid a tornado is more activity than I’m used to.” He examined the overturned bench, pointing a crutch at it. “Can you pick up the bench so we can sit?”
I did as asked.
Grandfather Zook settled onto the bench with a sigh. “Much better.” He exhaled a deep breath and looked to me. “Thank you for bringing Becky here. Her mother was beside herself. This was the first tornado we’ve had since both Timothy and Becky left home. It’s hard on my Martha.”
“How did you know it was tornado?” I asked. “You don’t have TV or a radio. Can you hear the sirens all the way out here?”
He laughed a deep belly laugh. “What do you think people did before all those gadgets? Long before television and radio, farmers learned to read the sky.” He pointed at Becky with his crutch. “I see Becky went shopping.”
I glanced at Becky in her T-shirt and jeans. “Maybe she should have changed before we stopped by.”
He laughed again. “I know her father doesn’t approve, but right now, he is happy she is alive. He will grumble about it later.”
I twisted a determined glance in his direction. “Grandfather Zook, have you ever heard of Grayson Mathews?”
He squinted at me. “Grayson Mathews? Why would you ask about that fool?”
“You know him?”
“I wouldn’t say that, but he’s been by the farm a few times. I wouldn’t mention his name to my son-in-law if I were you.” He smoothed his beard over his shirt front. “How do you know his name?”
“Hettie Glick said he offered to buy several farms in the district. He wants to build Englischer houses.”
Grandfather Zook nodded. “I’m surprised Hettie spoke to you. She doesn’t think much of the outside world.”
“Timothy and I both spoke to her.”
Grandfather Zook rooted around in the hip pocket of his trousers and pulled out a gray linen paper business card. “This is the man you mean?” He handed the card to me. “You can keep that.”
Grayson’s name and company information was embossed on the card in black lettering. “Yes, this is it.”
“He gave me that card the last time he stopped at the house. Happily, it was a time when Martha, Simon, and the children were away. He wanted me to talk my son-in-law into selling to give us all a good retirement. I’m in retirement.” He waved his hands around. “How can it be better than this?”
“When was this?”
He thought for a moment. “It was the day the company comes and picks up our milk, so it must have been last Thursday.”
>
“Before Becky’s accident?”
“Yes, I’m positive it was before the accident.” He watched me. “You’ve spent a lot of time with my grandson.”
My cheeks grew hot.
He grinned. “Ah!”
“He told me about Aaron’s fall.” The words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them. My face grew even hotter. It must be the same color as my hair now.
“That’s a start,” he said.
What did that mean? “Could Deacon Sutter still be angry enough over Aaron’s accident to have something to do with the buggy?”
Grandfather Zook examined my face. His white beard reminded me of Saint Nick’s, and his assessing expression made me wonder if he tried to determine if I was naughty or nice. “Deacon Sutter is a hard man, and he and I certainly don’t agree on most things. He already hurt Timothy as much as his power would allow.”
My brow wrinkled.
“Promise me you will remember that we’ve all made bad choices.”
“Are you talking about Timothy? Asking Aaron to jump on the roof was a bad choice. Is there something else?”
Grandfather Zook shook his head.
“Are you saying that leaving the Amish was a bad choice?”
Grandfather Zook adjusted his crutches on his arms. “You will have to ask him that for yourself. However, I think now he would say ‘no.’”
Across the lawn, Becky beamed at us. Grandfather Zook waved her over. “Come give your grossdaddi a hug too!” Becky hurried over and threw her arms around her grandfather. The business card felt heavy in my hand, and I stepped away so that the two could speak.
Ruth twirled Naomi, and the three-year-old squealed in delight. Her faceless doll peeked out of the pocket of her white apron. The sisters slipped on the wet grass in their bare feet and fell in a laughing heap. I helped them up. Naomi gave me a bright smile, and I could tell she would look just like Becky when she was older.
Seeing Ruth reminded me I needed to ask her a question. “Ruth, can I talk to you a minute?”
She cocked her head at me. “Okay.”
“Becky told you about her interview last Friday, the day of the accident, right?”
Ruth checked to make sure her parents were occupied. “Yes.”
“You called her on the telephone.”
She glanced around again. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Ruth, did you tell anyone about Becky’s interview?”
Ruth scrunched up her nose. She nodded and thought for moment. “I didn’t tell anyone at home because then they would know I’d been using the shed phone, and I would get in trouble.” She angled her head toward her father.
“Did you tell a friend?”
“Not a friend exactly.” She brushed wet grass from her skirt. “I told Esther Yoder.”
“Who is Esther Yoder?”
“She’s the girl Isaac’s going to marry because Becky’s not Amish anymore.”
I took a sharp breath. “Did you tell anyone else?”
“No.”
“Why’d you tell Esther?”
“I saw her in town when I made a delivery to the bakery. She asked me all these questions about Becky. She wanted me to say something bad about my sister, but I wouldn’t.” She rolled a blade a grass between her fingers. “Instead, I told her about the interview and that Becky was driving herself to it. I wanted to show her Becky was fine.”
“Did you tell anyone else this?”
“No.” She shot a nervous glance at her mother who strolled toward us. “Don’t tell her.”
I nodded.
Mrs. Troyer placed a gentle hand on my arm. “Chloe, would you and Becky come inside for a piece of peach pie?”
“Of course.”
Mrs. Troyer’s smile lit up her entire face.
An hour later, Becky finally said good-bye to her family, and we walked back to the Prizm. Becky carried an Amish woven basket full of home-canned pickles, jams, and Amish bread in her hand. I carried Grayson Mathews’s business card.
Inside the car, I stuck the card in my visor so that I would remember to take it in the house. I needed to talk to Timothy about this latest development—and about why he left the Amish. Was there more to it than Aaron’s accident? Grandfather Zook was confident Timothy would tell me, but I wasn’t.
I did a U-turn in front of the tree and headed back home. “Becky, who is Esther Yoder?”
My question woke Becky from her happy daze. “Esther Yoder?”
I glanced at her.
She folded her hands in her lap. “How do you know about her?”
“Ruth told her about your interview.”
She gave me a sideways glance. “Esther wouldn’t have messed with your car. She wouldn’t even know how to open the hood, much less cut the brake line.”
“You’re probably right, but she may have told someone that could. Who is she? Why are you avoiding my question?”
Becky wrinkled her nose, making her look just like her twelve-year-old sister. “Her family owns the bakery downtown.”
“The one where you couldn’t get a job?”
She nodded.
“Do you think Esther had anything to do with that?”
She leaned her head on the window, her eyes downcast.
“Ruth said Esther would marry Isaac if you didn’t.” I took my eyes off the road for just a second to look at her.
She sighed. “Isaac can marry whomever he likes. It doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
I wasn’t so sure of that.
“Turn here,” Becky said when we approached an intersection. “This is a shortcut home.”
We drove onto another nameless county road with crop fields on either side. Half a mile ahead, we spotted a pickup truck on its side in the drainage ditch on the opposite side of the road.
Becky’s voice was distressed. “Chloe, the truck is green.”
I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles ached.
Chapter Forty-Four
I slowed down and turned on my headlights. Dusk had begun to fall. “It doesn’t look like anyone is there.”
Becky pressed her nose against her window. “We have to stop.”
I bit my bottom lip.
She turned to look at me. “We have to see if they’re okay.”
I nodded. “I’ll call the police and report the accident. Can you hand me my cell phone from my purse?”
Becky gave me the phone. No service. I groaned.
“What’s wrong?”
“No reception here.”
Becky put her hand on the door. “Chloe, we have to stop. What if they’re hurt?”
“Okay.” I stopped the Prizm next to the truck. “Do you think they are still in there?”
Becky unlatched the passenger side door, her eyes wide. Something moved on the other side of the overturned green pickup.
I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t get out.”
Curt and Brock climbed out of the ditch and stumbled across my headlights, covered head to toe in mud. It was like watching a clip from a swamp monster movie. Timothy and I had probably looked much the same.
I shifted the car into drive. “See, they’re fine. Let’s go.”
Becky put her hand on the dashboard. “Ask them if they’re hurt.”
My brow shot up. “Are you serious?”
“Please.”
“Fine.” I opened the window halfway. “Are you okay?”
Curt ambled over and leaned against my car. “Brock! Look who’s here. Our Red!” He twisted a glance in my direction. “Red, I didn’t know you cared.”
Brock wiped mud from his face with a filthy bandana.
“See.” I spoke through gri
tted teeth. “They’re both fine. I’ll call the police when we get back into town.”
Curt stood a foot from my car, his arms outstretched. “Red, are you here to rescue us?”
Brock folded his arms in front of his barrel chest and smirked at his scrawny friend. “Maybe you’re right, Curt. Maybe she likes you more than the Amish dude.”
Curt smiled, his teeth mottled. “I always knew Red wanted a real man.”
I started manually rolling up the window, but Curt reached through it. I jerked away from him, and he knocked the visor down. “Get out!” I screamed. He pulled his hand away and I finished rolling up the window.
I pressed the gas pedal to the floor and swerved around the truck. In my rearview mirror, I could see Curt and Brock doubled over in laughter.
When we were close enough to town to get a cell phone signal, I called the chief. She picked up on the first ring. “What do you have, Chloe? I’m in the middle of storm cleanup right now.” Chief Rose’s voice sounded sharp. “This better be good.”
I told her about Brock and Curt’s accident.
She groaned into the phone. “I’ll send a tow truck out there to pick them up. Not that they deserve it. Did they say anything to you?”
“Nothing important.” Appleseed Creek’s square came into view.
“Hmm.” She murmured as if she didn’t believe me. “All right. We’ll talk about this later.” Then she hung up.
In our driveway, I reached up to the visor for Grayson Mathews’s business card. It wasn’t there. A streak of dirt marred the cloth roof of the Prizm.
Becky had stepped out of the car. “What are you looking for?”
“Mathews’s business card. I put it in the visor.”
She pressed her lips into a line. “It must have gotten lost when Curt reached into the car.
I shrugged. “I don’t need it. I know how to find Mathews.”
Chapter Forty-Five
A cowbell on the glass door rang when I entered Amish Bread Bakery early the next morning. It was a little after seven o’clock, and the bakery shelves were fully stocked with fresh breads and pies for the day. All of the shelving was blond wood and glass, the only decoration a bouquet of wildflowers on the counter next to the cash register.
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