“Which would be?” asked Agent Ross.
“A bunch of numbers and instructions. Directions. An address.”
“Telling us where to go to use this key,” Darcy said. And to how to end this nightmare.
SEVENTEEN
“We will look at every possibility,” said Agent Ross, packing up his notes and computer. “The FBI has the best cryptographers in the world.”
Darcy appreciated Agent Ross’s help, but she knew the FBI’s top cryptographers would not be focusing all of their attention on a twenty-year-old art smuggling case. She was surprised he’d been able to help as much as he had. Surely he had other cases requiring his attention, and yet he had come up with several leads for them, and had come willingly to help whenever Elijah called. She just hoped one of the leads would pan out soon. Soon enough that she would not have to go into WITSEC. She couldn’t even bear the thought of it. If only she could just go home. But after the break-in, home didn’t feel particularly safe anymore. In fact, the only place she’d been in the past few days where she’d felt truly safe had been Thomas’s arms.
Thomas walked the guests to the door. Darcy hung back in the kitchen. She was glad not to have to leave with Elijah and go back to the Millers’ just yet.
But poor Thomas. She knew he was in pain. She also knew he had a lot of work to do—his regular chores on top of the preparations for the singing—and it would be extremely painful, with no one to help him other than his eightysomething-year-old grandmother.
“Ach! That was a long meeting and I need to be in my kitchen. So much to do for the singing tonight.” Nana Ruth came busting into the kitchen. “And you, my dear, will need another change of clothes. You can’t wear that old smoky thing tonight. I’ll have Thomas phone Abigail. Hopefully she has another dress still hanging around.”
Darcy looked down at herself. She had washed the grime from her hands and face before the meeting, but Nana was right. She smelled like smoke and fear, and her dress was streaked with dirt. And since Nana was about as wide as she was tall, sharing with her hadn’t worked out. Darcy made a mental note to be careful from now on of how much Amish food she stuffed away while she stayed there. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be for much longer.
“So, what can I do to help?” she asked.
“You can get out there to that stable and help my grandson.” The old woman turned to her, her little spectacles sliding down her nose. She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t wait for him to ask you for help. He never will. But he needs it.”
“Of course,” Darcy said. She hurried out of the kitchen and across the courtyard. The temperature had dropped dramatically. And somehow the inside of the barn seemed almost colder than the outside. She walked up and down the aisles. It was a large stable. She found Thomas hobbling forward with a wheelbarrow. “Tell me what I can do to help?”
“What? You? Come to help me with the horses?”
“Yes. Me. Why not? I’m already dirty.”
He smiled. “Okay then, come on. I’ll show you how to muck out a stall.”
“I don’t think there’s too much to it,” she said, grabbing the wheelbarrow away from him.
“Hey, I was using that to help me walk,” he teased.
“You shouldn’t be walking at all,” she countered. But she couldn’t stop him from following her from one stall to the next. She mucked. He filled the water buckets and placed blankets on some of the horses.
“What did you think about the meeting?” she asked him.
Thomas twisted his face in thought. “Lots of angles. Complicated. But I know Agent Ross is doing what he can. And the fire department and police will be back out at the cottage tomorrow. You never know, they may uncover something about that intruder that gives us another clue.”
“I don’t know. Whoever it is has been pretty careful so far. No prints at my house or Jesse’s previously...though he might have been distracted enough today to drop something without meaning to. I can’t believe you threw a sofa at him.” She tried to picture the couch flying through the air.
“Well, it seemed only fair. He had a gun and I didn’t.” Thomas laughed and leaned against the wall. “I think I must have had a lot of adrenaline going. Anyway, it was a small sofa.”
“Do you think we will ever figure out what that letter means?”
“If God wills it.” He looked her dead in the eye. “Then yes, I think we will figure it out.”
God... Is that who had led them to the message and the box with the pictures? Well, she hoped if He was there and listening that He would bring an end to this sooner than later.
* * *
Thomas watched Darcy dodge hungry horse heads over the stall doors. Getting around the stable with a shot-up leg was slow going and it hurt. He probably should have gone to the doctor, but there was no way he would leave Darcy and Nana alone at the house, unprotected. And now it was good to move around. He was certain Abigail would take a look at it when she arrived with another dress for Darcy to wear.
“This is the feed room. It stays closed up or critters will wander in. Now, we have several types of grains—some for horses in work, some for horses in foal and some for...” He looked back at her. “Well, you get the idea. So first we fill the buckets and then you distribute.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
Thomas handed the grain-filled buckets to Darcy and she put them in the wheelbarrow and rolled it down the first aisle. “We’ll start here.”
He handed a bucket to Darcy and opened the first stall for her to enter. She held the bucket loosely, between her thumb and forefinger. Thomas repressed his desire to smile.
“Watch out, now. This is Princess. She doesn’t have very good manners.”
Princess turned around and whacked the bottom of the bucket with her head. Darcy squealed. The bucket of grain went flying through the air and Darcy landed right on her backside.
Thomas pressed his lips together to muffle his laughter.
“You knew she was going to do that, didn’t you?” She stood and brushed off her skirt.
“I was trying to tell you she has terrible manners. She was very poorly named,” he said. “I’m sorry about that. But perhaps you’d do better to keep your eye on the horse and not on the ground.”
“Point taken. But they didn’t do that when we were mucking.”
“You didn’t have food in your hands then.”
Darcy stood up and brushed her skirts off. Princess nibbled up the spilled grain around her feet. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
“My most valuable mare,” he said. “Would you like to ride her?”
“Me? Ride?”
“Yes, you. Ride.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “One of my favorite things to do is ride bareback in the snow.”
“Snow? What snow?”
“Oh, it’s going to snow for sure.”
“So you’re a weatherman and a horse whisperer,” she teased.
“I’m just a simple God-fearing man, Miss Simmons.” He smiled and handed her another bucket. “Next up, Storm.”
“Storm? If she lives up to her name, then maybe you should feed her.”
They made their way through the barn. Thomas loved the flow of their rhythm. They didn’t speak much, but still anticipated the movements of one another. It was like their hundredth time feeding the horses together, not their first. He couldn’t help but think about the kiss, too. That had been foolhardy of him. Still, regret was not what he felt over it. It was more a feeling of grief that it could never happen again.
“I come bearing gifts.” Elijah’s voice sounded through the stable, loud and, to Thomas, a bit unwelcome as he knew his time alone with Darcy was now at an end.
“Back here,” Darcy shouted.
Elijah came jogging around the corner. “A d
ress for you,” he said to Darcy. “And pair of crutches for you,” he said to Thomas.
“Any word on Jesse?” she asked.
“Abigail says he’s steady,” Elijah answered. “She will be here later to see this patient. As for you—” he turned to Darcy “—Nana said she will draw you a bath, but only if you hurry because then she needs you to help carry the food out to the barn.”
“Thank you.” Darcy hurried away.
Thomas should have thanked her but the words somehow stuck in his throat. He watched the back of Darcy floating away from him until she turned and disappeared around the corner of the stall. He didn’t like watching her leave.
Remembering Elijah standing there, Thomas shook away his thoughts. He put a crutch under each arm and took all the weight off his bad leg. “Hey, these are great.”
Elijah nodded readily.
Thomas swung his way to the stable office and lit a lantern. Elijah followed. “Let’s go grab those benches.”
This time, Thomas followed Eli out to the large trailer that housed all the church benches and tables. Every other week they traveled to a different home for Sunday church. And occasionally they were used for weddings and funerals and other events like the singing.
Tiny flakes of snow floated through the air.
“I knew it was going to start soon,” Thomas said. “How much are we getting?”
“Maybe a foot.” Elijah got into the trailer and slid out the benches.
Thomas put down his crutches and helped to set the benches on the ground. “You’ll have to get one of the boys to help you carry them inside.”
“No problem. I’m sure some kids will start showing up here in no time.”
“I’m glad for the singing. It’s good to get our minds off Jesse and these break-ins.”
“And the fire,” Elijah mumbled. After unloading the trailer, he hopped down. “Do you think Darcy can keep her cover with a whole barn full of Amish?”
Thomas nodded, trying to keep his facial expression neutral. “Ja. She’s pretty, uh...pretty good, ja?”
Elijah slapped his friend on the back. “I saw the way you looked at her.”
“The way I looked at her?” Thomas tried to play dumb. “You mean a worried look.”
“I wouldn’t call what I saw a look of worry,” Eli teased.
“What would you call it then?” Thomas sighed and picked his crutches back up.
“I’d call it a look of admiration. Affection. Thomas, I’d call it chemistry.” Elijah smiled, but his eyes were focused, making it clear that Thomas should listen closely.
“Chemistry?” Thomas repeated casually. “Elijah, I think you’ve been smelling too much shellac at the furniture store.”
Eli’s smile went flat. He was not joking and he wanted Thomas to know it. “I suppose I’d only call it chemistry, if I didn’t know better. But I do. The Thomas I know is much too smart to fall for an Englischer, even if she is all dressed up in a nice plain frock.”
If his friend could see through him, who else could? He would have to be more guarded. More careful with his eyes and his attentions.
Thomas met Elijah’s eye. “Advice taken.”
“Now, go get cleaned up before that Englischer uses up all the hot water.”
A little while later, Thomas tried rinsing the smoke and an entire day’s worth of grime off his aching muscles. It wasn’t easy to keep the bullet wound dry.
Darcy had helped him today, but he’d have to get his cousin’s son to come lend a hand in the stables for the next few weeks until he healed. After washing up, he dressed in a clean white shirt and his best pair of trousers. He ran his fingers through his dark curls and then down his beard. Darcy was right. It had never grown in too well. It was strange that she had asked him about it. When his marriage had not worked out, he had wanted to shave it off, but his father had said that was not the way.
Thomas had never kissed a woman since Mary. Not until today. He supposed over the past ten years he had never met one he wanted to kiss. And now that he had, she was an Englischer. Elijah was right to remind him. There was no future with Darcy. Thomas knew that and he needed to act accordingly.
* * *
Darcy couldn’t remember when a hot bath had felt so good. She only wished she could have lingered in it a little longer. It had been fun working the stable with Thomas. But she could tell she was going to be sore tomorrow from all that shoveling. And sore from falling out of a two-story window.
After toweling off, she dressed in another of Abigail’s frocks. She combed out her hair, parted it and pulled it back. She fit the white prayer kapp on her crown, surprised at how quickly she’d grown accustomed to dressing herself in these clothes. It wasn’t easy. There were no buttons. No zippers.
Next, Darcy lifted the lovely silver locket and turned it over. There was a small inscription on the back:
Forever yours, October 4
She wondered what the date could be. Their wedding? The day they met? Ten...four. The number date made Darcy think about all the numbers in the verses that Jesse had written in the note she’d found. She wanted to get her hands on that Bible. She disagreed with Agent Ross about the letter being a code in and of itself. She was certain that the letter and the Bible had to work together. She just needed some time to look through the Bible. Find the verses. Study the pages. Maybe, just maybe, something would pop out at her.
Darcy fastened the locket around her neck and slid it under the collar of the dress, then hurried down to help Nana Ruth with the evening’s festivities.
EIGHTEEN
It was after six o’clock when the kids had started to show up in groups and pairs. Darcy and the Miller family had placed tables and benches and plates and mugs and napkins out. Nana had made obscene amounts of food. The whole time, Darcy had wrung her hands and worried.
It was one thing to disguise herself as Amish when she was with people who knew she wasn’t like the Millers and Abigail. It was another to keep up the act in front of a whole community of Amish folk. There were over thirty Amish teenagers plus friends and family gathered in Thomas’s indoor paddock for what everyone called the “singing.”
The boys were lined up on one side of the table and the girls on the other. The girls outnumbered the boys almost two to one. But no one seemed discouraged. Most of the adolescents had arrived in small open carriages and carts. Others had walked through the snow. With no musical instruments for accompaniment, the adolescents began to sing songs of praise and worship, sometimes in harmony, sometimes in unison. Sometimes in English, sometimes in Pennsylvania Dutch. Their glorious voices lifted to the roof and beyond. Darcy couldn’t remember when she’d heard anything so wonderful in her entire life. All her worry and fears melted away with their voices.
“Gelobt Sei Gott im hochsten Throne... Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah...
“Praise God on the highest Throne... Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah.”
“We haven’t had a singing here for a while,” Thomas told her as he sat down beside her.
“It’s wonderful,” Darcy said. “At first, I couldn’t believe these kids came here through the snow to sing worship songs. But now that I see how much fun they’re having...”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. You know, there are usually at least ten more kids attending. So I do think the snow may have stopped a few from coming. But at least our place is more centrally located than the home of the family who was originally going to hold the singing tonight. Nana got wind a few weeks ago of someone wanting to relocate, so here we are.”
“And it’s the finest barn in Lancaster County,” said a tall boy who had just entered. He shook hands with Thomas. A frail dark-headed girl stood shyly behind him. “Thanks for having it here. You saved my parents.” He looked to Darcy and tipped his hat.
“Thank you, ma’am,” the boy said with great enthusiasm. “I’m Amos Beiler. And this is my girl, Lucy King.”
“Nice to meet you,” Darcy said.
“Now, go join the fun,” Thomas urged them. As they walked away, he leaned over to Darcy and whispered, “They will get married come next November.”
“They’re engaged?”
“No. They won’t announce it formally until the end of the summer. But they’ve been steady for years.”
“For years? They look so young.”
“Lots of couples marry at eighteen or nineteen. It’s not so young when you’re already working and making a living.”
“So I guess I’m pretty much an old maid according to your standards?” she asked.
“The oldest,” he teased.
Darcy gave him a sideways glance and punched him in the arm.
“But don’t worry. None of the boys will ask you to go for a buggy ride after the singing. They all think you’re with me,” he said. His gaze was on her, obviously waiting for a reaction. She’d give him one. But it wouldn’t be the silly girlish blush that he might be expecting. Yes, he had kissed her. Yes, she was attracted to him. But she and Thomas were like milk and soda—not ever meant to be together.
“Well, maybe you should set them straight.” She stood with Amos’s bread in her hands and a flat expression on her face. “I’ll go put this on the table with the others.” She scurried away from him to the food table.
Thomas used his crutches and swung over beside her, closer than he needed to. His scent wafted over her, a mixture of manly musk and homemade soap. Whether he was the soda or the milk, there was no denying his appeal. His fingers brushed her upper arms, sending a chill through her entire body and something else. Something she hadn’t felt in a very long time—in fact, maybe it was something she’d never felt.
Lancaster County Reckoning Page 13