“Is it safe here?” I asked.
“Sometimes tree branches will crack under the weight of snow and ice.”
Great.
“That makes me feel safe,” Ryan muttered.
Jonah shrugged. “Just be on the lookout for any falling branches.”
Duly noted.
We walked in silence for a few more minutes. I listened for more falling branches.
“I know Amish live off the grid, but aren’t they supposed to be close to their district?” Ryan asked.
Jonah glanced over his shoulder. “Most live closer together, but there are loners even in the Amish world. Not many. Amish who want to live outside of the community are looked down upon.”
“I’m guessing Nahum doesn’t much care what his district says,” I said.
“Nahum doesn’t care what anyone says about him. He is still Amish in how he dresses and what technology he uses, but he doesn’t answer to any district. From what I hear, his old bishop doesn’t know what to do with him and would like him just to stay away.”
“Then why was he upset about Eve Shelter being in that play?” I asked.
“From what I gather, he still believes in the Amish religion. He just interprets it as he sees fit. I guess Eve’s acting didn’t follow whatever it is he believes about the Amish.” Jonah stepped over a rock peeking out of the snow. “You will be able to ask him yourself soon enough. We are almost to his cabin.”
The trees parted into a clearing. In the middle of it was the small building. The word “shack” was a perfect description for it. It had four walls and a roof, but they looked like they were held together by a little glue and prayers. Nahum stood on the roof with a shovel, pushing large piles of snow over the side.
“What is he doing?” Ryan asked.
“He’s shoveling his roof. Just like heavy snow can break branches, it can also cave in a roof,” Jonah whispered.
“Sheesh, should I be worried about my house?” I asked.
Jonah shook my head. “Nee. Nahum’s roof is flat. Yours has a peak. It should be fine as long as we don’t get five feet of snow.”
My mouth fell open. “Does that happen?”
“Rarely.”
That didn’t make me feel better either.
Nahum’s head snapped up. “Who’s there?” he bellowed from the roof.
I winced. We had been found out.
Chapter Twenty-seven
“I said, ‘Who’s there?’” Nahum bellowed again. “Show yourself.” He held the shovel like a javelin as if he would throw it at us as soon as we appeared out of the trees.
“Okay,” Jonah whispered. “Here’s your chance to talk to him. But when I say it’s time to go, it’s time to go. Understand?”
“All right,” I said.
Jonah looked to Ryan. “What about you?”
“Fine with me.” Ryan folded his arms. “The sooner we get out of here the better. The man looks deranged.”
Jonah nodded and started toward the clearing. Was he agreeing with Ryan that Nahum was deranged?
Jonah glanced over his shoulder when Ryan and I didn’t follow him. “Are you two coming? You were the ones who wanted to talk to him.”
“He does look a little crazy,” I said.
“That’s because he is crazy,” Jonah whispered before stepping out of the trees.
Oh well, that made me feel so much better. I followed Jonah into the clearing. Ryan was a few steps behind me.
Nahum pushed a large pile of snow off his roof, and it cascaded over the side like a snowy waterfall. He then climbed down the ladder. “Jonah Graber, what are you doing on my land, and what are you doing bringing Englischers here?”
Jonah greeted Nahum in Pennsylvania Dutch. “Stay here,” Jonah whispered to us, and cautiously approached the other Amish man.
The two men spoke in their own language, and Nahum repeatedly jabbed his shovel into the snow as if to make a point.
“I’m thinking this was a very bad idea,” Ryan whispered into my ear.
I would never let him know it, but I silently agreed. It would have been better for me to speak to Nahum on neutral ground, and preferably somewhere he didn’t have access to a shovel.
Jonah waved us over. Ryan and I shuffled within ten feet of them. I hoped that was out of range of the swinging shovel.
“We wanted to talk to you about your niece,” Jonah said in English.
“You and everyone else.” Nahum leaned on his shovel. “The sheriff and one of his deputies were here just after first light. Doesn’t anyone understand that I have work to do? My homestead is not going to take care of itself.”
I suspected that he used the word “homestead” loosely. Broken bits of furniture and farm equipment poked out of the snow in the yard. With the snow as deep as it was, it was hard to tell from where exactly all the pieces of metal and wood originated. We would have to watch our steps. I tried to remember when I last had a tetanus shot.
“What did the sheriff want?” Jonah asked.
Nahum glowered. “Same as you wanted, to talk to me about the girl.”
“You mean your niece,” I said.
“Anyone who would fall under the world’s spell like that is no relation of mine.” He spat.
Ryan wrinkled his nose. Nahum certainly wasn’t the kind of guy he usually hung out with. The corporate crooks Ryan represented in court were much more refined.
“What did you tell them?” I asked.
“That I didn’t have anything to do with her falling. It was Gotte’s justice being served. She had it coming for falling away.”
I took a step back from his venom.
Nahum glared at Ryan. “Who are you? You look like you’re from the city. Are you a fed?”
Ryan cleared his throat. “I am from the city. I’m not a federal agent. I am here as Angie’s friend to protect her.”
“Protect her from what?” He snorted. “From me? You have no need to worry on that account. I don’t have any interest in hurting anyone.”
“But Eve—,” I started.
“I told you I had nothing to do with that,” he snapped. “Since I am still here as you can see, the policeman believed me.” Nahum abandoned his shovel and walked toward his front door. “You can come in if you want. I have kaffe.”
I raised my eyebrow at Jonah.
“A cup of kaffe would be nice,” Jonah said, and followed the other Amish man through the door.
Ryan grabbed Jonah’s arm. “Do you think this is wise?”
“Nee,” Jonah said. “But we came all this way for Angie to ask him her questions. It’s best to get that over with, and it’s too cold to stand out here all day.” Jonah followed Nahum into the house.
I waited a couple of beats before I followed.
The door creaked on its hinges when I pushed it in. I definitely would not have gone inside had I been alone. I’m not that dumb. I wasn’t even sure if we should be inside the shack with Nahum. Hadn’t everyone been telling me for the last two days that he was crazy?
Inside the shack, there was one simple open room. In today’s Realtor-speak, they would spin it as an open floor plan. The room was sparse and surprisingly clean. Apparently, Nahum just tossed unwanted items into his littered front yard. A dry sink and small table with four chairs denoted the kitchen area. There were no dishes in the sink, and the counter was bare and dry.
Nahum’s sparse wardrobe hung from pegs lining the wall next to his bed.
A black potbellied stove sat in one corner of the single-room cabin. A rocking chair with a worn black leather Bible sat on top of it. Nahum removed one of the cast-iron burner covers with his bare hands. I winced. The metal had to be hot. He filled a blue speckled coffeepot with coffee grounds and scooped snow out of the bucket.
I did my best to hide my grimace.
Any of the germs in the snow would boil out. At least that was what I told myself.
“Have a seat.” Nahum gestured to the table.
Jonah and I sat. Ryan remained standing near the door. I knew it was for easy escape if need be.
Nahum picked up the coffeepot from the burner on the potbellied stove. “Kaffe just needs a warm-up. It won’t be long.” He looked at me. “It might be a tad bitter for you, but it’s how I like it.”
Interesting that Nahum would like his coffee bitter. Somehow that seemed the perfect flavor for him.
The Amish man grabbed three empty white mugs from the cupboard and set them on the table. He sat in a third chair. “What can I tell you about Eve? That is what you want to know, right?”
I nodded.
“Eve was the perfect name for her—the first woman to have sinned. Eve Shetler was fallen just like the original Eve.” He slammed his fist on the table.
Jonah caught the mugs before they toppled over. Fortunately, they were still empty. Ryan took a step toward the table, but Jonah shook his head. Ryan fell back into his post by the door.
I gritted my teeth. I respected the Amish and their beliefs, but equating Eve’s dream of being a star in a play to original sin was a little much for me to swallow. How could this man be Rachel’s father? Rachel was the sweetest, kindest person I knew. Maybe it had been for the best that my friend had been raised by her mother’s family. I hated the thought that she might have grown up with this man.
“Yes, Eve left the Amish,” I said, “but every Amish person has to make that choice. Even you made one. Are you just bitter because she left the Amish for New York?”
“Why should I care where she went when she left the county? I only care that she came back and disgraced our people in such a public way. Don’t you realize that those Englischers producing the play made everything they could out of the fact that Eve had been raised Amish?” He stood and picked the coffeepot up off the burner. He brought it back to the table and filled the three mugs. The coffee looked as appetizing as one of Willow’s signature teas. “They will make just as much out of her now that she’s dead. It’s all a popularity contest. She did not have to come back here and stir up all this trouble.”
I didn’t touch my drink; Jonah glanced inside of his mug but made no move to sip from it either. Nahum took a long pull from his coffee, unconcerned that it was blazing hot.
“Maybe she wanted to see her family again. Maybe this was the best way to do that,” I said.
Nahum snorted. “My brother won’t see her.”
“Why did you have such a problem with her being in the play?” I asked.
“Because she mocks the Amish.” He smacked his hand on the table this time. Jonah was ready and steadied all the mugs.
“Why do you care?” I blurted out. “You aren’t really part of the Amish community.”
Jonah looked as if he wished I were in striking distance so that he could elbow me in the ribs.
Nahum peered at me over his coffee mug. “I’m still Amish and can take offense at someone making a mockery of my people.”
I opened my mouth, but Jonah jumped in. “Every person must make their decision during rumspringa whether to stay within the community or go. Eve made hers.”
“Then she should have gone and stayed gone. I went over to that hotel and told her as much. Not that she listened.” Nahum’s eyes narrowed.
I leaned forward, and the chair beneath me creaked. “When was that?”
“The day she died. A few hours before she went onstage. I went to the hotel to talk to her and found her outside in the snow. She screamed when I walked up to her. I wasn’t going to hurt her. I just wanted her to know that she wasn’t welcome here.”
That must have been right before I nearly hit Nahum with my car in the parking lot. I suspected Eve already knew by that point that many Amish didn’t want her in the county, especially those in her own family.
“Why did she scream?” Ryan asked from the doorway.
Nahum turned to him as if he had forgotten Ryan was there. I knew I almost had because all my energy was intent on Nahum and watching for what he might do.
“Because she was afraid,” was Nahum’s simple answer.
“Afraid?” Jonah asked.
“She looked it to me. Or maybe she was just skittish. I told her my piece. Whatever good that did, and she claimed she had to stay in the play. She didn’t have a choice to back out now, even though she was sorry how the Amish in Rolling Brook felt about it.” He gripped his mug. “She had to be lying. She had a choice.”
Maybe she didn’t.
“Did she tell you why she had to stay in the play?” I asked.
“Nee, one of those play people showed up then and told me I had to leave.”
“Who was it?” I asked.
“I don’t know any of their names. They are all Englischers.”
“What did he look like?”
“He was a short, wiry man with a mustache. Eve didn’t seem to care for him, but she went with him.”
Jasper, I thought. “Why do you say that?”
“She said that he couldn’t tell her what to do because he wasn’t the director. The man turned bright red. If I had not been standing right there, he might have struck her when she said that.”
I frowned. If Nahum thought that Jasper wanted to hit Eve, would he have been angry enough to cut the rope of her swing? I swallowed. Poor Eve. What kind of torment had the girl been facing on the day she died? “She endured a lot to come back and see her family,” I said.
Nahum set his mug back on the table. “I already told you that my brother would not have seen her. My brother won’t even see me. He believes he is such a righteous man because he follows all the district rules. He is weak to allow the bishop to think for him. I made that mistake once and will never again.”
I saw Jonah’s jaw twitch.
“What decision was that?” I asked.
He glared at me over his coffee mug. “None of your business.”
On a hunch, I said, “Was it about Rachel’s mother?”
Jonah’s head snapped in my direction. He had not expected that question. I hadn’t either.
“What do you know about it?”
“I know Rachel is my dearest friend, and you are her father. I know there has to be a reason that you left your daughter and your district when Rachel was a baby. It was because of her mother, wasn’t it?”
Tears gathered in the Amish man’s eyes and rolled down his weathered cheeks. “The bishop killed my wife.”
Jonah dropped his spoon and said a not-very-nice word in Pennsylvania Dutch.
“What?” I asked.
“He’s the reason she is dead. After my daughter was born, my wife was in a bad way. The midwife said that she could not help her. I went to the bishop to ask for guidance.” He pounded his fist on the table again. “The bishop told me to take her to the Englisch hospital in Canton. I argued with him, saying it would be better for her here in her home. He told me I was wrong.
“As a gut Amish man, I did as the bishop told me. I took her to the Englisch hospital, and the doctors hooked her up to all sorts of machines. She died in a most horrible way, surrounded by beeping and whirling. I will never get those sounds out of my head. It was the bishop’s fault. And my fault too for not trusting Gott that she would get better at home. Instead, we put our faith in Englisch doctors. No good comes from the Englisch ways—that’s what I learned. I left my district.”
I swallowed. Did Rachel know all of this? I doubted it. “Did you leave your family’s business at the same time?”
“Nee. I planned to still work there too, until I saw the bishop’s influence washed over my bruders. I saw what they were doing in following the bishop’s worldly ways. They put a telephone inside the office, and the worst yet, they wanted t
o sell Christmas trees to the Englisch. I had to leave. I would have no part of it. If they wanted to join the world, that was their choice, but they were not taking me with them. I knew what would come of it.”
“What about Rachel?” I asked quietly.
Nahum wiped a tear away. “Her mother’s sister was a gut, steady Amish woman. She was the best one to raise the child. She is better off without me in her life.”
I didn’t think Rachel would agree with that.
Chapter Twenty-eight
At the road beside Nahum’s woods, Jonah, Ryan, and I stood. I didn’t know what the men were thinking, but my thoughts were preoccupied with Eve and Rachel. There was no hope for Eve to mend her relationship with her family, but Rachel and her father had a chance.
I broke the silence. “It must have been Jasper Clump, the stage manager, who interrupted Eve and Nahum last night. Do you think that was the person she was afraid of?”
Jonah untied Maggie from the tree. “I would wonder more over what she was doing standing outside the barn. If she wanted to get away from the actors and production for a bit, wouldn’t she go back to her room at the hotel?” He climbed into his buggy. “I hope you are satisfied and will not want to speak to Nahum again.”
“I won’t want to talk to him about Eve, no.” Mentally, I added that Rachel was another story. “Thank you for taking us there.”
Jonah nodded at me and then at Ryan. “I’ll see you both at Christmas Eve supper at our farm tomorrow.”
“You will,” I promised.
He grinned. “It should be exciting with such an interesting group of people coming.”
I glared at him. I knew he meant the sheriff. “Bye, Jo-Jo.”
He winked and flicked the reins.
Ryan picked a bramble off his sleeve. “You can take me back to the hotel, and I can change my clothes. Maybe the hotel’s laundry will have better luck getting all the brambles out of my coat.”
“Thanks for coming,” I said.
“You’re welcome.” His chocolate brown eyes looked into mine. “I would go anywhere you need to, Angie. You have to know that.”
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